Stages
by Miss Corrine
Summary: In the wake of the devastation caused by the Snap, the world scrambles to figure out how to cope. Follow along as five people who are as normal can be struggle to cope with something decidedly not normal. The Avengers weren't the only ones affected, afterall. (Slight Endgame spoilers if you still haven't seen it.)
1. Chapter 1: The Snap

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone and thank you for coming to this story. A few things to know before you continue as I want to cover my bases.

This story will contain depictions in varying levels of grief, mourning, mental illness, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, religion, and many other things. If any of this may upset you in any way I suggest strongly that you proceed carefully when reading this. I am not sure if I'd describe the descriptions as graphic, but they are as detailed as I could get them. The beginning of each chapter will have warnings of specific themes (such as panic attacks) that may be triggering, but I'm not sure how accurate the warnings will be. This first chapter is rather devoid of any of what was mentioned above.

Additionally, this story is OC centric. I really wanted to explore how regular people reacted to the Snap and how they coped afterwards. I've seen a few people do it with the Avengers and Co, but not with the mundane people. That may not be your cup of tea so you can leave if you wish. Just don't bash my story for trying this out. Therefore, this fanfiction is a bit more like a regular story.

The story will be slow in the beginning before picking up in pace somewhat as the story progresses. It also is kind of an emotional roller coaster in some ways.

Finally, this is my first multiple chapter story. It's been experience writing it. It's going to be a bit rough, choppy, and maybe not edited the best. Just keep that in mind. Without further adieu, here you go. Sorry for the long AN!

**Disclaimer (Do People Still Do This?):** I do not own the MCU or make any profit from this.

* * *

**Stages**

* * *

Chapter One: The Snap

* * *

March 2018

* * *

"-the garden box will go right here in the center-"

"There?"

"Yes."

"But where will the fire pit go?"

"We rarely use and when we do we can find a new place for it."

"And have something catch on fire knowing out luck."

Rose turned to her mom to give her a pointed look. Lynn returned the look with one of her own towards her daughter. Rose shook her head and gestured,

"I just don't see how the fire pit could go anywhere else."

"And I don't get where you think where else the garden box could go," returned Lynn, gesturing around the yard as she spoke. "The left side of the yard rarely lets anything grow due to the terrible soil. The right side is where the trees and our shade is for when we want to come and sit outside. There is no where the garden is going there and take away our spot of shade. So, it will go in the center."

Rose opened her mouth to say something, but Lynn cut her off, "Do you want the garden box or the fire pit more?"

Rose snapped her mouth shut and then sighed before saying, "The garden box so I can start my own vegetable garden for my cooking."

She crossed her arms and hugged herself. "I still don't get where the fire pit could go," she muttered under her breath. Lynn gave her daughter a look and Rose fell quiet, knowing better to argue over something that they didn't use all too often and not wishing to waste the effort.

Rose stood beside her mother, gazing out over their backyard. The beginning of spring was approaching quickly, so that meant preparations for the garden were underway. This year, her parents were finally fixing up the gardens to look as good as new.

The backyard and its multiple small flower gardens were the first part they were tackling and the front garden was to follow soon after. The backyard gardens were firmly her mother and father's realm of planning and therefore they got to make the executive decisions on what went in the back. However, she had full control over the front garden.

"Lynn, where do you want me to put the dirt!"

Rose turned to look at the side of the house where she heard her father's voice come from.

"By the porch where me and Rose are, Adam," her mother called back.

A moment later Rose watched as her father came running into the backyard, carrying two bags of topsoil. She stepped away from the patio as her father set the bags down.

"You okay," Rose asked as her father panted heavily and bent over.

Adam waved his hand and nodded, trying to catch his breath. Rose and Lynn shared a look. After a minute he straightened up.

"Have you two decided on where the garden box goes," Adam questioned. Rose looked towards her mother and nodded.

"The center of the yard where we use to put the blow up pool and where the fire pit once was," Rose told her father.

"Finally," said Adam, "Something to cover all that grass it killed. You gonna help me put the frame down kiddo?"

"Yeah," said Rose, nodding.

"Grab your gloves and let's get to work kiddo."

Rose grabbed at set of gloves off the bench on the patio, ready to follow her father and get to work. Over the next few minutes, Rose helped her father moved the wooden square they had kept stored on the side of the house to the center of the backyard and centered it where they wanted it to be. Then, they began the process of laying down a layer of compost and then pouring in the dirt. As Rose used a rake to even out everything, Adam took a step back for a breath.

"So, have you decided what you want to do for your sixteenth birthday," Adam asked his daughter.

"I've told you I don't know," said Rose. "I don't really have anything I want or need."

"What about going up to the lake and go boating," Lynn suggested to her daughter slyly.

Rose stopped and looked to her parents surprised. She asked, "Are you kidding?"

Lynn and Adam smiled towards their daughter. Lynn gestured for her husband to speak.

"No," said Adam, "Since you can never decide on what you want for your birthday we thought an experience would be better. You love going to the lake and we haven't gone in three years. We were thinking about renting for a whole day and boat out on the lake, maybe do some swimming or fishing, just the three of us, maybe your brother if he can spare time. We know you don't have many friends and hate parties so we thought this would work."

Rose stared at her parents in shock. The lake. She had been wanting to go back ever since they left. She loved going out on the boat and boating around the lake and feeling the push and pull of the water beneath the boat.

"I'll take it," Rose said. "I will definitely take it. Yes. Dude yes. I don't want any of that sweet sixteen crap. I'll take it."

Lynn and Adam smiled at their daughter as she became animated at the idea. The two shared a look. The last few weeks had been rough on her mentally. They had been hoping this would cheer her up and they were right. They hadn't seen her this animated in a while.

Rose went back to work on the garden box, her father rejoining her to help, as she thought about the trip. The trip was long and expensive one so heading up to the lake was a rarity. The lake was four hours away from where they lived so it wasn't a one day trip deal. Additionally, the area around the lake was expensive to stay at. The cost to rent a boat was even more added cost. Overall, it was simply expensive all around, so it was a very indulgent treat. Rose smiled. She would have a great birthday.

"Kiddo, let's start adding the remaining compost," said her father, interrupting her thoughts.

Rose nodded. Her father would put the compost into the pox and she would even it out. As they fell into the pattern, Rose felt a tingle go up her spine. Rose shivered. It was March and still cold outside. Why couldn't it get a bit warmer? Then, her mind grew fuzzy with the sensation of vertigo before focusing. She dimly was aware of the sound of something falling and hitting the ground, but she shook it off. Rose took a breath and continued.

As Rose knelt down to even out the dirt with her hands, Rose heard the sound of Kit, her family's labrador, start barking. Then, Rose saw something fluttering to the ground from the corner of her eyes and felt something brush against her skin.

"Ah," said Rose, startled by the sight of something fluttering and the feeling of something against her cheek.

Rose raised her hand to her face and wiped it with her wrist. Dirt. Huh. Rose turned to face where her dad had been, ready to ask if he had split some dirt on her. But, he wasn't there. Her brow furrowed. Why hadn't she heard him step away?

"Mom, where did Dad go," asked Rose. She turned to where her mother had settled down in the rocking chairs, but instead no one was there except Kit who was still barking.

Rose stood up and clapped her hands together to get off the dirt and compost before removing them and tossing them to the side. She put her hands on her hips and looked around the yard. Where was her parents? She hadn't heard them leave. Had she zoned out again?

Rose began heading to the front of the house and looked around the front yard. They weren't there. Rose walked back to the backyard and headed inside through the back door.

"Mom! Dad," Rose called out into the house. No response.

Rose leaned against the open backdoor frame. Where were they? She grabbed her phone out of her phone and texted them.

_Where r u? I didn't hear u leave._

Rose headed back outside to work on the garden box. Kit was still barking so she snapped her fingers a few times and he looked at her before quieting down. In turn, he began to whimper.

"What is with you," asked Rose, confused.

As Rose approached the garden box she noticed a pile of what appeared to be ashes. Rose reached down and touched them, standing up as she rubbed the material between her fingers. It felt weird. This couldn't be from the compost. And she didn't remember seeing it earlier.

"Aurora! Estella!"

Rose looked up at the sound of their neighbor calling her daughters and turned to look in the direction of their shared fence. That's when she noticed the same ash material by the garden box on her mother's rocking chair.

A heavy weight settled into her chest. Rose felt her mouth go dry and the familiar sensation that forewarned of a panic attack creeped throughout her body. She didn't know what was going on, but right now everything felt very, very wrong. As if everything had just clicked into place. Everything felt off. Rose suddenly felt like she was in an episode of the _Twilight Zone_.

"Mom! Dad," Rose called out loudly, feeling dread seeping into her body and words. "Mom! Dad!"

Rose could almost hear the _Twilight Zone_ theme song echoing as she yelled out and began to look for her parents fervently. Something in her was nagging at her, warning her something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what. As Rose searched, she learned she was right. Everything was wrong.

* * *

William sat in his chair, relaxing as the TV droned on and listening to the sound of his wife cooking and talking. He could spend an entire day just listening to her talk.

"Do they honestly think we don't know what they are planning? How could we not? Asking what cake we had at our wedding? What flowers were in my bouquet?"

"They think they're being subtle," said William with a smile. Subtle they were not, but they had tried.

"Subtle? My love, they are far from subtle," said Patricia to her husband from her spot in front of the stove as she cooked. "I told them I just wanted a nice family dinner with whoever could make it. I don't want anything big or ostentatious."

"Are you sure," asked William, fidgeting. His thoughts strayed to the gift he had hidden for his wife. "Afterall, fifty years...well, that's a long time for a marriage."

"With you by my side I still feel like the girl I was when I married you," said Patricia, a knowing smile gracing her lips that her husband couldn't see.

Unconsciously, she reached up to touch the necklace William had given her as his wedding gift to her. He still made her feel that sense of giddiness and excitement after all these years.

"Romantic," William accused his wife playfully. "I may still feel the same at heart, but my body doesn't agree."

"And I still love you, wrinkles and all."

William laughed but quickly it turned to coughing as his lungs protested. Patricia looked up at the sound of her husband's coughing, stepping away from the stove and heading to the living room. Stopping in the doorway separating the two, Patricia looked at her husband. The coughing was beginning to subside.

"Are you okay my love," Patricia asked, concern evident.

William looked to his wife, "I'm always alright when you are with me," he said.

"Who's the romantic now," Patricia accused playfully. "Now come and start making your way to set the table. I'm nearly done fixing lunch."

"Are you ever going to let me do something other than set the table," questioned William.

"After you made the fire alarms go off when cooking the ground meat for those meat pies, no," Patricia said from the kitchen.

William laughed and shook his head. William slowly began to make his way out of his chair, turning off the TV as he did so.

"One time and you ban me from helping cook," William asked his wife, a mocking tone laced with incredulously in his voice.

"That was not the only time my love and you know it. Or are you forgetting the time with the casserole."

William winced as he walked into the kitchen. "Alright. Maybe with age I'm losing my touch when it comes to cooking, but I also recall you not being the best of cooks either when we were first married." He turned to his wife to give her a pointed look.

Patricia looked offended, "I was not a bad cook. What went wrong-"

"Meatloaf," deadpanned William. Patricia paused, thinking back to the moment, before:

"Well I've had fifty years to perfect and you've had fifty years to go down hill," she retorted.

William laughed and shook his head once more. William walked over to cupboards and grabbed out two plates. Then, he moved to fetch the utensils needed. Walking to the table, he set down the plates and utensils and arranged them per usual. Next, he fetched the napkins and two glasses. Once he finished arranging everything on the table he asked his wife,

"Drink?"

"Water," Patricia said.

William nodded and fetched the pitcher of ice water from the fridge. Pouring a glass for each of them, William set the pitcher on the center of the table before sitting down.

"What do you think they have planned for us," William asked his wife, referring to their family.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe be a replica of or wedding cake or at least the same flavors. I'm think the same flowers as the ones I had in my bouquet will be set up everywhere. Photos will be everywhere. Lark has been doing most of the family archiving and genealogy now including all the photos and she is one of the ones who will be there. I don't know what else. Presents, maybe? It's not like we need anything else though," said Patricia, rolling her eyes at the idea she needed anything else to make her happy when she had her family.

William paused for a moment, thinking to the small box with the gift for Patricia he had hidden away, before tentatively asking, "Are you sure you don't want a gift?"

Patricia gave a look to her husband as she began bringing the food over. "William, what in the name of heaven did you get me? I thought I said I was fine with nothing."

"Something simple," said William, thinking once again to his gift. It was simple, just not inexpensive.

Patricia gave her husband a questioning look as began distributing the food. "Why don't I believe you," she asked rhetorically.

"I don't know," William said innocently.

"Mhm. Seventy-four years old and you are still just as mischievous and cunning as some of our grandchildren," said Patricia, looking at him accusingly.

"Don't pretend you are straight laced, my darling. You got into quite a lot of trouble as a teenager too."

Patricia laughed. "I suppose I did, but we are supposed to have outgrown acting like children."

"Says who," retorted William, "We are supposed to be the fun grandparents."

"Alright," said Patricia, with a smile she tried to push away, "Now come on. Lunch is ready and I don't want it getting cold."

As the couple worked in tandem to set up the table for their shared meal, William watched as Patricia's hand went slack as she struggled to grip the handle of the spoon.

"Are you okay," questioned William. Patricia waved him off.

"I'm fine, my love," said Patricia. Patricia squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand to her temple. "Just a sharp pain in my head."

"Are you sure you're fine?" questioned William.

"Yes," said Patricia as she smiled reassuringly.

Patricia and William finished taking their shares of the meal and settled down to eat. William closely watched his wife as they began to eat. Patricia noticed his gazed and reached out her hand, grabbing William's hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

"I am fine, my love," she insisted firmly, but it did nothing to reassure her husband.

William could only widen his eyes. "Patricia?" He watched as Patricia's body began cracking as it dissolved into something similar to ashes or dust. Patricia looked at herself and what was happening to her body. She turned back to her husband.

Patricia looked William straight in the eyes and tightened the grip she had on his hand. "I love you," she said.

William watched in a mixture of horror and shock as his wife dissolved into nothing but dust, her gaze firmly planted on looking him in the eyes even as she disappeared. His heart beating fast and loud, William sat back in his chair and could only stare at where his wife had been sitting just moments before.

"Patricia?"

* * *

Deborah was walking down the streets of New York City. The route was familiar, one of the many she took to get around the city. The route was so familiar, she could just walk it without much thought dedicated to it. The familiarity was relaxing, especially when wanting to work off the stress of the day.

Deborah adjusted the bag on her shoulder and pulled her scarf closer, the weather is still cold in March. New York City seemed only to have two seasons: winter and summer, both of which were polar extremes. Focusing on walking, Deborah continued on her route home. As she walked she couldn't help but feel...odd. Something felt odd. Deborah paused mid-step and took a breath. That's when she saw.

Deborah couldn't believe what she was seeing. This couldn't be possible. Deborah watched in shock as people all around her began to fall to dust. For the briefest fraction of a moment everything seemed silent before bursting into a cacophony. She watched as cars and all sorts of vehicles crashed without their drivers and start chain reactions. She looked upwards and saw a plane veering dangerously out of control in the sky.

Deborah felt panic grip at her chest. _Robert._ What had happened to Robert? Was Robert alright? Deborah began rushing through the streets through the mass of people, some who stood still and others who were moving to help those who had been injured. Deborah was not entirely sure of how she managed to get home so quickly through all the chaos, but she did.

Deborah arrived in front of the apartment building that her and her husband had been owning and running for years. Rushing through the front doors, she saw tenants and friends standing in the halls, all looking shocked, but she didn't pay them any mind. All she cared about was Robert. She needed to know if he was okay.

Deborah rushed up the stairs to the floor where her and her husband's apartment was. When Deborah turned the corner of the stairs, she froze when she saw her husband standing outside the door, bracing himself against the wall.

"Robert?"

Robert looked upwards and turned to see down the hall. Upon seeing his wife, Robert looked shocked. The shock soon gave away to relief. Tentatively, Robert took a step towards his wife. "Deborah?"

"Robert," Deborah said in relief, a choked feeling gripping her.

Deborah rushed down the hall towards her husband and Robert met her halfway. Deborah pulled him close and Robert wrapped his arms tightly around her. The two held onto each other tightly, relishing in each other's presence.

"You're alright. You're alright. Thank God you're alright," murmured Robert, running a hand over her hair.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," said Deborah, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer to her, breathing in his scent. "You?"

Robert nodded. "I...I think so. I was so worried when you wouldn't answer the phone. I thought...I thought…"

"No," said Deborah. "I'm right here."

A moment passed as the couple relished in each other's presence. They were both safe. Spared by whatever had occurred. Deborah soon pulled away from her husband to look him in the eyes, but kept a tight grip on his jacket he was wearing.

"Robert, what's going on. One minute everything is fine, but the next...people were turning to dust." said Deborah, concern and fear evident on her face. "It reminded me of spontaneous human combustion."

"I don't know," said Robert, running his hands down his wife's arms in an attempt to reassure her.

"Robert," said Deborah pulling away from her husband. "Do you know who is gone? Who turned to dust or ash or… whatever that was? Who is missing?"

A grim look passed over Robert's face and Deborah felt her heart drop. "Who is gone," she asked her husband.

"We're not sure. Everyone is still checking. Most people are only just starting to get past the initial shock. It hasn't been a while since it happened, but…"

"Who," Deborah asked, looking at her husband pleadingly. Robert hesitated before admitting,

"There are a few people gone so far. Most people are still at work or school and or only just coming back, but… but a few of the tenants are gone. Phillip Ramone, Karen Light, and…" Robert hesitated before continuing, "Max and his boys, Ezra and Elijah."

Deborah felt like she had been hit with a sledgehammer as the world came to a screeching halt. "What," she managed to get out. That… that couldn't be true. It couldn't be right.

"Are you sure," asked Deborah, "Maybe they weren't home when it happened. Maybe they are trying to get back. Maybe-"

Robert grabbed his wife by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Deborah," said Robert, "They are gone. Milo saw it happen. He was playing with the twins when it occurred."

Deborah shook her head in denial. "No," she said, "That… that can't be right"

The Harts could not be gone. Everyone in the building was apart of the building family, but the Harts… the Harts were family in ways the others weren't. Deborah could remember first meeting Max as he walked in with his two year old twin boys looking for an apartment, tired and worn, trying to balance being a single, young father and going to college after his girlfriend left him and their sons.

The Harts had been family for a long time. Ever since she first babysat the boys. Ever since the first time she invited the Harts to dinner. Ever since she went to one of Elijah's soccer games. Ever since Ezra included her and Robert in a family drawing. They were her family when she and Robert had none.

Deborah shook her head. "No." Deborah turned around and headed to the staircase, making her way down to the floor below. "Deborah!" She ignored her husband's call and walked determinedly to the apartment she knew as well as her own.

Deborah passed many of her tenants in varying states of shock, denial, and disbelief, but she paid them no mind. Deborah slowed her pace as she reached the apartment. Hesitating, she steeled herself and walked in. Everything looked normal. The photos were in the same place, shoes strewn about, the twin's toys everywhere, homework on the dinner table, and a general mess expected when you had twin eight year old boys and a dad who was an ER nurse. Heading to the living room, Deborah looked and saw scattered in the living room was three piles of ashes.

"No," muttered Deborah. "No."

Deborah raised a hand to her mouth as she began to cry. Why did they have to be taken? Why did they of all people have to be taken?

* * *

Evelyn hummed to herself as she looked out the window, watching as the trees, houses, and the people moved by so quickly as Mom drove through the neighborhood. They had just gone to the grocery store and Mom had designated her reader of the list. Evelyn thought she did quite well. She had only messed up a few things.

"Evelyn we're home," said Mom.

Evelyn smiled, recognizing her house. Hands going to the buckles in the seat, she immediately tried to undo them.

"Wait Evelyn. I need to park."

Evelyn stilled, waiting for Mom to park, knowing if she did otherwise that she would be in trouble. Evelyn bounced up and down in her car seat, waiting for the okay.

"Alright Evie. I'm parked. Do you need help with your buckles," asked Caroline to her daughter, turning around so she could see her.

Evelyn shook her head. "No. I'm a big girl. I can do my own buckles." Caroline nodded, letting her daughter undone her buckles on the car seat. Ever since Evelyn had figured out how to get the buckles done she resisted anyone's attempts to help buckle her or get her out. Caroline wasn't sure if a child Evelyn's age should be aloud to buckle and unbuckle themselves, but they always made sure to get a close eye on her.

Once Evelyn finished the last buckle, she smiled to her Mom and then opened the car door. Jumping out, Evelyn began running to the house. Caroline sighed in exasperation.

"Evelyn, wait!"

Caroline sighed. Evelyn knew she was suppose to wait and go inside with someone else. At the least, David was home and so were the rest of the kids. It would have to be okay this time. Besides, Caroline knew she wouldn't be able to catch up with Evelyn now. Her daughter was pure energy, worse than any of her older siblings or cousins when they were her age.

Evelyn ran up the driveway, racing to the side door. Dad would've kept it unlocked since he knew they'd be coming back from the store soon. Mom always texted when they left the store. Speaking of Mom, she could hear her yelling after her. Oops.

Evelyn skidded to a halt in front of the door. Climbing the steps, she made her way up and reached for the handle. Touching the handle, Evelyn jumped back a little. She hated shocks, even if this one felt odd. Throwing open the screen door and then the main door, Evelyn made her way inside.

"We're back," Evelyn announced.

Evelyn looked around. Michael's school stuff was spread across the kitchen island. Mom wouldn't be happy. The island was supposed to be clean by the time they got back from the store. Evelyn shook her head and called out again, "We're back." Usually, she would hear someone moving about the house, but she didn't hear anything. Evelyn looked around the kitchen again. No one.

"Dad! Michael! Addy!"

Evelyn scanned the dining room connected to the kitchen. Empty, but Addy's school stuff was spread about the table. Evelyn frowned and headed through the entrance to the living room. The living room was empty too, but the TV was on. Where were they? They had to come help with the groceries.

Evelyn went to the stairs and began making her way up. That's when she clamped her hands over her ears. Xavier was crying. He cried so loud it hurt her ears. Evelyn continued up the stairs and made her way to the nursery.

Xavier was in his crib, sitting up and crying loudly. Evelyn went over to him and crouched down to look at him through the bars.

"Hi Xavi," Evelyn said, cooing at her brother. Xavier quieted down at seeing his sister, but continued to cry. "You know where everyone is?"

Xavier stared at his sister before crying louder and wailing. Evelyn winced. Her ears hurt. Mom would pick up Xavier to get him to stop crying, but Evelyn wasn't allowed to hold him without supervision.

"I'll go get Mom," said Evelyn. Maybe she'd know where Dad and Michael and Addy went.

Evelyn raced out of the nursery and down the hallways. Running down the stairs and making her way outside, Evelyn raced to the car.

"Mom! Mom! I can't find Dad or Michael or Addy. Where did they go," asked Evelyn coming to the car. "Xavier is crying too and I don't know what to do."

Evelyn walked to the back of the car and stopped in confusion. The trunk was open and Mom wasn't there. Evelyn peered into the car and Mom wasn't inside. Evelyn bit her lip. She hadn't passed Mom. Evelyn rocked back and forth on her heels and bit her lip harder. What was going on? Where was everybody?

Evelyn hesitated before making her way back to the house. As she went she didn't see any of her family in the front yard or the backyard. The only thing she found was dirt in the driveway. Heading back into the house, Evelyn didn't see anyone in the kitchen, living room, or dining room. She did, however, find more of that dirt from the driveway now inside the house.

Evelyn made her way upstairs after checking downstairs. Reaching the second floor she checked her siblings bedrooms, her bedroom, the bathrooms, and even dared to go into her parents bedroom which she wasn't supposed to go into. No one was there and all she found was even more of that dirt. Evelyn then made her way into the nursery where Xavier still sat, crying and whimpering.

"Hi Xavi," said Evelyn, sitting down by his crib, "I can't find anyone. Not Mom, not Dad, not Addy, or Michael. I don't know where they went."

Evelyn pulled her knees to her chest. She didn't get where they went or why she was alone. She wasn't supposed to be left alone and neither was Xavier. Why couldn't she find anyone?

* * *

"Have you decided where you want to go yet?"

"I don't know Mom. I got so many offers. I'm not sure if I want to stay close to home or if I want to go away for college, then I'm also trying to see which have the best programs and which scholarship is the best."

"Have you narrowed it down at all?"

"I've narrowed it down to six schools so far, maybe five."

"That's good, but you better not be choosing to stay close to home because of me."

"Mom…"

"I mean it Isaac. You do not have to feel obligated to stay close to me. I do not need to be taken care of. I am the parent and I have appreciated how much you're willing to help around the house to take a burden off my shoulders, but it's time you do what you want to and take care of yourself. Understood," said Viola Aarons, giving a firm look towards her son in a side glance. Isaac Aarons looked at his mom and nodded.

"Yes Mom," affirmed Isaac, knowing better than to try and argue with his mom.

"Good," said Viola, giving a firm nod of her head as she focused on the road.

"Now, I was thinking we stop by the store, pick up some ice cream, pizza, and do a movie night tonight. How does that sound? It's been a while since we have managed to do one between my work and your school work and athletics-" Viola continued on.

"It sounds great Mom," interrupted Isaac, turning to his Mom to give her a smile. Movie nights were the best. Viola spared a glance at her son and smiled in return before turning back to the road.

A moment later and the next thing Isaac knew was his mother hitting the brakes hard and throwing at an arm in front of him to block him from being thrown forward by force. Isaac heard his mom swearing and the next thing he knew everything was a blur.

Isaac could only remember pieces of what happened next. He remembered the car rolling and feeling the impact each time it turned over. He remembered the blur of so many different sounds from the sound of metal scraping against asphalt, crashes, glass cracking and shattering, and screaming. He remembered the changing of colors and going from light to darkness and back and forth. He remembered seeing so many scenes flitting across his eyes. Then, pain. So much pain.

When Isaac came through after the car came to a still the first thing he noticed was how much his head hurt. Then, a wet, sticky feeling across his forehead and the side of his head. Following that was how everything was so fuzzy, coming in and out of focus. Some things looked blurred, but others were sharp and clear. Isaac blinked his eyes multiple times, trying to get his bearings.

Attempting to look around, Isaac tried to take note of things. He noticed the car was lying flat on the passenger side. Glass was spread everywhere. Then, he noticed his seat belt was keeping him in place. Next, he began to register the pain in his knee which then spread to the rest of his right leg and seemed to continue to grow in strength the more aware he became.

Isaac glanced to the driver's side and he began feeling concerned and anxious. His mom. His mom was still in her seat, the seat-belt holding her in, but she still dangled a bit from gravity. There was blood on the front of her head and Isaac could make out a cut. The cut seemed to be her only injury, but Isaac wasn't sure. There could be something internal or blocked from his view.

"Mom," Isaac called out, hoping she was still conscious. Then, they could figure out if they could or should try to make it out of the car.

Viola stirred slightly at the sound of her son's voice. Turning her head and wincing at the pain shooting through her neck, shoulder, and head, Viola tried to look at her son.

"Isaac?"

"Yeah mom. It's me. You need to try and stay awake," Isaac told his mom, trying to stay calm.

Viola nodded and muttered, "I'll try, but...it hurts. Everything hurts."

"Mom, Mom," Isaac said insistently, anxiety building in his chest, watching as her body began to go slack. Was she okay?

"I'm here, honey, but I feel so odd."

"Mom, just try and stay awake. Emergency services should be coming soon," said Isaac, hoping someone who had witnessed the crash had called emergency services. Isaac wasn't sure if he could reach his phone to do it himself.

Isaac watched as his mom looked at him again and she smiled weakly towards him, trying to reach a hand to touch him. Viola winced at the effort and let her hand drop.

"Something feels wrong," Viola said.

Isaac was about to open his mouth, but stopped. Isaac watched as his mother's skin, her entire body, seemed to crack and spiderweb before slowly coming apart. Isaac watched as his mom turned to what looked like dust or ash and the remnants begin to float in the air.

Isaac felt as if his heart had just stopped. Then, it began slamming against his ribs and Isaac could hear his heartbeat and the sound of his blood rushing. Mouth going dry, Isaac tried to formulate words. What had just happened? What just happened? Was… was that some form of spontaneous combustion?

Isaac tried to suck in a breath, but instead he began hyperventilating. What had happened? Isaac struggled to get out of his seat, but the seatbelt kept him firmly in place. Isaac tried to undo it, but it was jammed.

"Help," Isaac screamed, "Help! Someone help!"

Isaac tried to slam himself out of the seat, but instead gasped as pain went shooting through his right leg. Isaac gasped loudly, the air knocked out of him. His world blurred and spun. Black spots and danced in and out of Isaac's vision.

"Help," Isaac called, voice coming out strangled. "Help!"

The world seemed to be dimming as Isaac grew more and more aware of the pain flooding over him. Isaac had felt pain before, but nothing like this. Body beginning to go limp and the world dark, Isaac glanced back to the driver's seat and watched as the dust -his Mom- continued to swirl around before it began to settle. Attempting to fight back tears threatening to come, Isaac tried one last plea.

"Help!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Congratulations! You've made it to the end of this chapter. Thank you for sticking around even just this far. This story will be seven chapters long. A new chapter will be posted every few days. The current schedule is every Tuesday and Friday until the whole story is published. Also, the title will start coming into play next chapter.

If you could, I'd really like some constructive criticism and feedback. I'd really like to know what I could do better in future fanfictions, and even in this one during my final editing stages before publishing the next chapters. Just no bashing or flames, please. You do not have to read this story if you don't like it.

I know this story isn't most people's cup of tea, but this idea hasn't left me alone for the last few months and for once I wanted to just write a story I liked, not worry about writing one others would like.

I also know that this story is a little rough, but I started getting real stressed out over this with my anxiety kicking in overtime. So, I just decided to do some minor polishing up and editing before publishing it instead of continuing to do all the remaining rewrites I had planned. For the sake of my remaining sanity I just needed to get this published. So, I hope it is at least decent.

That's all. Thank you for reading. Sorry for the long ANs and the rambling explanations of everything.

-Miss Corrine

* * *

_Chapter posted July 12, 2019._

_Minor edits on July 17th, 2019._


	2. Chapter 2: Stage One

**Author's Note:** Here is the next chapter. I know I said it would be up Tuesday, but I got it done earlier than expected.

I have a few warnings for the chapter, just to be sure. First, descriptions of panic attacks, panic, anxiety, sensory overload, and feelings related to grief and mourning. Second, depictions of a religious character and their beliefs, just in case that may upset any of you for whatever reason. Third, some references to infant loss. That's all I can see as being an issue. So, here you go.

* * *

**Stages**

* * *

Chapter Two: Stage One

* * *

March 2018

* * *

_Denial and/or Isolation_

* * *

Rose felt like she was losing her mind. Maybe she was. Or was it the entire world that was losing their minds, not just her?

A couple days had passed since the… the Decimation, as people were beginning to call it. The last couple days had involved frantically trying to call family members, trying to learn who was still...alive.

Rose shook her head. This could not be happening. This could not be happening now. How could someone just turn to dust? How the hell is that possible?

Rose swallowed hard. The feeling of panic, anxiety, terror, fear, worry, and so much more was gripping at her chest, threatening to shred her from the inside out as it dragged her down. Rose tried to take a deep breath, but her body fought against her. She felt caged in her own skin. Rose hugged her arms close to her chest. This was not the time for a panic attack.

Rose tried to suck in another deep breath. She could feel her chest constrict and the beginning of hyperventilating or at least shallow breaths. Rose closed her eyes and focused on breathing slow and steady. In and out. In and out. Deep as possible and as long as possible. In and out. The cool air in and warm air out.

After a few minutes passed, Rose could feel herself calm down marginally. At least she felt a little more focused, if only because her emotions hit a point where they turned into an unsteady calm. She hated that feeling. She felt she could fall down tumbling at any time when she was like this and then she'd just stay falling.

Rose opened her eyes and surveyed the room. She was currently holed up in an emergency center of sorts which had been set up at one of the schools in the area. The center was a place where you could wait for news, whether that news being what has happened or looking for a family member or friend. Rose had come here almost immediately after hearing it was being set up. She did not know what else to do. The house felt too empty and still.

Rose had some family nearby, her grandmother in a nursing home and relatives from her grandmother's side of the family that she didn't have much contact with were spread about, but she hadn't been able to get in contact with any of them. Her brother lived nearby, but he was on vacation at the coast and he hadn't picked up his phone...if he had even survived. (Rose hoped he was still alive. They may not be close, but she didn't want to lose anymore family.) Rose was hoping she would run into someone she knew, because she was so clueless as what to do.

Rose looked at one of the tables that had been set up. The table was for minors, like herself, who found themselves without anyone. Rose knew logically she should go over there and talk to one of the volunteers, but that would make it seem all too real. Rose didn't want this to be real. If she could just keep denying it happened maybe something would change…

Rose twisted the ring on her finger nervously. Going to her one of her usual methods of relaxation, Rose began people watching. People were spread out everywhere in the room. Some were huddled together while others were spread apart. Some looked shocked, devastated, or sad while others looked furious. However, a few showed no emotion at all, only a blank calmness. Some were seeking comfort while others were seeking answers.

Rose exhaled and pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them close. It was loud in the gym that served as the main base of operations for the emergency center. There were so many noises and all were grating. She felt like she was being pulled in various directions as she heard sounds from all around her.

Despite the overwhelming presence of people in the room, Rose felt isolated and disconnected.

Rose inhaled and exhaled. She watched warily when a woman came and sat not to far from her. Rose shifted uncomfortably. She hated people in her personal bubble and she considered her personal bubble quite big.

The woman was about twenty or so. She had long hair that had been haphazardly braided and the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes made clear by her pale skin. She was dressed in sweatpants, very comfy looking sweatpants, with a knit sweater and scarf. She was on the phone talking to someone.

Rose turned her attention away from the woman and tried not to listen to what she was saying. It was impolite to eavesdrop she had to remind herself. Rose instead surveyed the room.

Rose was on the far side of the cafeteria, currently sitting on top of one of the cafeteria tables that had been pushed up against a wall. The cafeteria was painted white with blue accents, the shades reminding her of a bluebird. There were three main information tables and a fourth specifically for minors. A few booths were also set up, but Rose wasn't quite sure of their purpose. Everywhere, people were seated at cafeteria tables or at foldable chairs. Rose knew that in the hallways and other rooms of the school, sleeping bags and cots had been set up for the people who stayed overnight.

"-Who's gone? Do we know who? I told you who is gone on my end. I thought one person from each side of the family was being designated to find out who was alive or gone. What about yours? Are the kids and teens okay? Are any of the young ones missing? The adults? What about William and Patricia-"

Rose mentally shook her head and tried to tune out the woman and her conversation. A person's pain was personal unless they were connected to it as well. It was hard to ignore, though, with her mind desperately trying to hear what was going on and figure it out. She always had the urge to know what was going on all the time and she had always been very curious. She pushed the urge down. Rose, instead, pulled the hood of her jacket up, hoping to block out something whether it be light or sound.

Rose dug her nails into her knees, gripping tightly onto the fabric of her pants and her leg itself. Leaning down to press her forehead against her knee, Rose let out a shuddering breath. There was too much. She could hear everything. Everything was grating on her senses. There was too much. Rose curled up tighter, trying to block out everything. Kit, who was laying on the floor, as she didn't know what to with him, to leave him at home or bring him, picked his head up and whine at her.

"Hon, are you okay?"

Rose raised her head and turned to the side and saw the woman who sat near her, looking at her concerned. She seemed to have finished her call, but her phone was still clutched in her hand.

"Wait, bad question. Sorry I asked. Are you waiting for someone," the woman amended, looking apologetic.

"I-I don't know," admitted Rose, unsure of what to say. "I didn't know where else to go."

"You don't have anyone to talk to," the woman asked, looking concerned.

"Uh, no. My parents are...gone and I can't get ahold of anyone," Rose spit out, feeling her chest constrict. An urge to run scrapped across her body. Everything felt like too much.

"Maybe the volunteers could help you. They have a table minors looking for help," the woman said, looking over to a table.

"Yeah, I know, but I don't really want to, ah, go talk to them, not right now, uh," Rose stuttered out, her world feeling like it was spinning and everything closing in.

She could not do this. She could not do this. She could not just sit here and talk and try to act normal. No.

"Can you excuse me? I need some air," Rose managed to get out.

Rose uncurled herself and practically sprinted to get away. Kit following after her Everything was closing in. Everything was too tight. Everything was too close. Her head was spinning and her chest tightening. Rose pushed her way through the crowds, ignoring the call of the woman who had talked to her. Rose ran out of the cafeteria and sprinted around a corner, running into the bathroom she saw.

Rose stumbled into one of the stalls and shut it close. Leaning against the door, Rose let out a sob that had built in her. Her heart was beating so hard, she was sweating, everything was spinning, her head felt like cotton, and her chest felt so tight. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. The pressure that had been rising in her chest finally popped.

Rose wrapped her arms around herself as she cried and sunk down to the floor, not caring that she was sitting on a dirty bathroom floor. Slamming her head against the door, Rose hugged herself tighter. She wanted her mom and dad. She wanted them back. Rose continued to cry, feeling that is was the only thing she could do. On the other side of the stall door, Rose heard Kit whimpering and scratching at the door.

Rose wanted her parents. She wanted to be able to get in contact with family and see if anyone else survived. She didn't want to be alone. At the same time, she didn't want anyone seeing her like this.

She felt so alone. Rose felt so trapped, so closed off, and so isolated. Rose shifted her arms so she could grip her hair and pulled. She didn't want this to be happening. This couldn't be happening.

Her parents couldn't be gone. You can't just disappear. You can't turn to dust. There was no way that could be possible. How could that even be possible? There was no way people all over the world could be turned into dust. Sure, weird things had happened over the last few years, from aliens to entire cities being destroyed, but this?

This couldn't be happening.

* * *

_Acceptance_

* * *

William sat in his chair, quiet and pensive, surrounded by a world of chaos. Patricia was gone. Patricia was gone and so many others as well.

William looked up at the television, the news repeating the information everyone already knew. The news cycle was the same, the information was the same except worded slightly different, but in the end it was the same.

William drew in a breath. Patricia was gone. He had watched her go right before his eyes. His wife of fifty years was gone. She had turned to dust. And oddly, he accepted it.

William knew others would think it odd, even he himself did, but he accepted she was gone. William knew others were in denial that their loved ones were gone - turned to ash - but, for some reason, he just wasn't.

William loved his wife as much as any person can love another human being. Their marriage was fifty years long following two years of dating which had been preceded by two years of him pining after her before gaining the courage to ask her out, and even that was preceded by six years of them being friends. ("I was wondering when you'd ask me out. I thought you'd never would and I'd have to be doing the asking.")

The life they had together had been a long and happy one. They had their lows, but they also had their highs. Together they had built a family which included their children and grandchildren and even more extended family. Most of all, they had been happy.

William let out another breath. He missed Patricia. He missed her so much, but he couldn't deny she was gone now. The love of his life was gone. William could feel his heart get heavier at that thought. He had never imagined living without her, but now that is what he would have to do.

William knew that one of them would have to end up living without the other. The two of them were both in their seventies and were heading towards the average life expectancy. And over the years both he and Patricia had had their health issues. Patricia had battled cancer twice and he had always dealt with lung problems. They always knew that there would more likely than not be a time where they would have to live without each other. William never thought, though, in recent years, that he would have to be the one to live without the other.

William glanced to his side and saw her chair. Normally, she'd be sitting there, reading a book and sipping on her favorite tea or coffee. He could recall the way her lips would curve when she hit a good part of the book she was reading. William remembered watching her out of the corner of his eye, memorizing her profile, enjoying her with him.

The table next to her chair still had all of her stuff. A worn old copy of one of her favorite old books that she had been reading for the second time within the last few months alone. A notepad for her to write down anything and everything on from grocery items to reminders. An old lamp they had owned for who knows how long. A picture frame of their children and grandchildren. One of her mugs resting on a coaster.

William sighed. The ache of Patricia being gone so fast staying steady and deep. He may have logically knew that one day he may be without her, but emotionally he wasn't prepared. He felt withdrawn, as if watching everything play out like a movie, but he also felt calm. A strange sense of calm where he did not fight the tide, but instead moved with it. Yes, his wife was gone, but they had enough happiness together to fill lifetimes. Yes, he'd miss her, but they had so much time together. More than either of them ever thought they would.

William breathed in and out. Patricia may be gone, but he had his memories of her. Patricia may be gone, but a part of her was in each of their children and their grandchildren. Patricia may be gone, but he still had his love for her. Patricia was gone, and he accepted that. William would join her now if he could, but the time was not now. William had to help the family left on this side, but one day he'd seen her again, he'd just have to wait.

* * *

_Anger_

* * *

Deborah pulled her coat tighter around her body, turning it into a makeshift shield. She walked fast and determined, climbing up the steps to the large oak doors. Pulling one open, she walked inside and breathed in, attempting to steady herself. The fire rushing through her body was threatening to explode, but she would not let it, not yet.

Deborah strode across the room to the second set of doors and pulled them open, slipping inside. The air was different here, calmer almost, and Deborah hated it right now. She looked to the side and saw the bowls holding the holy water. Steeling her jaw, Deborah dipped her fingers in and proceeded to make the sign of the cross over herself. Turning her gaze forward, Deborah began her walk down the aisle.

Deborah strode down the aisle until she reached one of the pews closests to the altar. For a moment she was tempted to not genuflect before entering the pew, but Deborah pushed down the feeling of rebellion welling up in her. Sitting down at the end, Deborah pulled down the kneeler and took her place.

Deborah repeated the sign of the cross and took a deep breath and let it out, not knowing where to start. She had made her way here, planning what she was going to say, but now she wasn't sure. Gazing downwards, she looked at the floor, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Why," Deborah choked out in a whisper. She hadn't seen many other in the cathedral, but there were some so she'd attempt to keep her voice down. Furthermore, this was private, between herself and Him.

"Why," she repeated. "Why did You let this happen? Why did You take them away? Why would allow something like this to happen?"

Deborah paused, not knowing what else to say. All she could ask is why this happened. She couldn't think of much else. Deborah drew a breath in, speak with your heart is what she had been told to do when praying. It was what she had always done.

"They're gone. So many are gone, just ripped away from us. We had no warning, it was all so quick. One moment they are here and the next they're not.

"Not a single person was spared by this. Those who did not disappear now have to deal with the aftermath. Everyone lost someone. Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents, spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends, neighbors, all ripped away from us. Why?"

Deborah could feel the fury rise in her chest. She could feel her shoulders tremble with the anger she was feeling.

"Why? Why did You allow them to be taken away from us. Is this a part of Your plan? To rip them away from us?

"What are we supposed to do? What is the purpose of all of this? What did we do to have You take them away from us? Entire families are gone because of what has happened. Children don't have their parents and parents don't have their children because of what has happened.

"Why did You do this to us? Is this supposed to be some form of punishment? You are suppose to be a merciful and kind God."

Deborah spit out harshly. She breathed heavy and her shoulders sunk. Deborah winced as she felt her knees protest for kneeling so long. She wasn't as young as she used to be.

"I know You can be harsh, but this, this is too harsh. What gives You the right to take them away from us? What did they do to deserve to be taken away? What did we who are left do to deserve our families and friends ripped away? Why the Hell did this happen? How could You allow this to happen?"

Deborah looked at the tabernacle behind the altar and then at the crucifix hanging above the altar. Deborah squared her shoulders, defiance present in her posture. For a moment, Deborah didn't feel like the fifty-five year old woman she was who had seen and been through so much. No. She felt like a girl again. A young girl full of defiance and anger.

Deborah remembered herself as the girl, the young woman, and the woman she been, and all the times she had been so furious with the world and with God. The times where'd she come to church and rage at him in defiance and in sorrow; from the time her parents dissapproved of her marriage to Robert, when her father died before they could reconcile and before he could see her marry the man she loved, to the times she came back after every miscarriage and stillbirth, demanding to know why He wouldn't let her have the child she wanted so dearly. The times where'd she'd look up defiantly and let her anger take over, thinking she could challenge Him.

After each of those times Deborah had come with her anger taking over it had eventually faded and she learned. The anger would be strong, but then it would ebb back before resurging. The sadness would come and mingling with the anger. Then, with time, so would the calm. Finally, the acceptance. The healing would follow until only the scars remained.

The cycle was one Deborah had been through many times and had become quite familiar with and she knew each of her scars, but now. Now, Deborah didn't know if she could ever heal, not from this. How could she accept this? How could she get through this?

"I want them back," Deborah said finally and firmly. "I want my boys back. I want Max and his precious boys to come back. I want every person taken away to come back."

Deborah felt the anger surge in her. Anger was a tiring emotion she knew. One moment you feel so powerful and then you are hollow. But, Deborah did not care right now. Anger made her feel like she had power. The feel of power made her feel so strong. The feeling of strength made her believe she could do this and nothing could hold her back. She felt invincible and she felt she could demand this of Him. Part of Deborah knew she was being arrogant, but the rest of her did not give a damn. She would not sit by passively and let this happen. If she had, she would find her own way to get them back. She would find the person who did this.

"I want them back. I want them all back," said Deborah, gazing at the altar, "I want my family back. Why did You have to take them? What did we do to deserve this?"

* * *

_Bargaining_

* * *

Evelyn didn't really get what is going on, but to be fair, she didn't think the adults knew either. Mom and Dad and her siblings had all disappeared a couple days ago and apparently a lot of others had too.

Evelyn frowned. The adults were acting weird. They wouldn't answer her questions and they seemed so sad. Evelyn was sad too, but wasn't everyone coming back? Didn't they just go away for a while? If not, someone had to be able to find them. Why hadn't they asked the Avengers for help if so many were gone?

Evelyn glanced at her baby brother. He was in his crib, sound asleep. Evelyn couldn't stand being far away from him. She didn't want him too disappear too and maybe if she stayed close he wouldn't. She would stop whatever happened to everyone else. She could make sure they didn't leave.

"Evie."

Evelyn looked up to the doorway and saw and saw her cousin, Diana, standing in the doorway. Diana was Uncle James and Aunt Desiree's daughter. Alexandra, Kiera, and Diana made up the oldest three out of her cousins. The Triad, Tommy had nicknamed them. The three most powerful and oldest out of her cousins.

"Yes?"

"It's time for bed. Come on, I'll tuck you in," said Diana, reaching out her hand.

"Do I have to," asked Evelyn, pouting. She glanced back at her brother. She didn't want to leave him.

"Yes," said Diana, looking apologetic towards her younger cousin. "Say goodnight to your brother first."

Evelyn frowned, but nodded. Turning to her brother, Evelyn squeezed her arm through the bars and patted her brother's head gently.

"Goodnight Xavier," whispered Evelyn.

Evelyn pulled her arm out of the crib and walked over to her cousin. Diana offered her hand and Evelyn took it. Evelyn followed her cousin out of the room and down the hall to where a room for her had been set up.

Upon reaching the room, Evelyn scurried over to the bed and climbed in. Diana waited patiently in the doorway as Evelyn made herself comfortable.

"You ready hon," asked Diana, giving her cousin a questioning look. Evelyn nodded, but Diana gave her cousin a look.

Diana couldn't help but feel that something was off about the there was something off with her cousin. She couldn't pinpoint it, but it felt like Evelyn was wanting to ask something, but was holding back. That was unusual because Evelyn loved asking questions.

"Are you alright Evie," asked Diana, concerned. Evelyn hesitated before,

"Diana, where has everyone gone? Mom and Dad and Michael and Addy are gone. I haven't seen Alexandra or Tommy or-"

"I know, Evie. I know a lot of people are missing," said Diana, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge of the bed by Evelyn. Why did she have to ask her that? She'd have to answer the best she could. "But, we don't know what's going on either."

"But you're adults," said Evelyn. "Aren't you supposed to know?"

Diana laughed. Innocence was a wonderful thing. "I'm afraid not even adults to know everything."

"But you're supposed to," insisted Evelyn.

Diana shook her head and wrapped an arm around her cousin's shoulders.

"Well I'm afraid adults just to say that to convince themselves they know everything."

"Then, what happened," Evelyn pouted before continuing, as if realizing something, "Did Mom and Dad leave because I did something wrong? If I'm good will they come back?"

"No honey," said Diana shaking her head and pulling her cousin close. "They didn't leave because you were bad. Your parents loved you very much. We don't know why they and the others disappeared, but it most certainly wasn't your fault."

"Are you sure," questioned Evelyn.

"I am positive," assured Diana. "Now why don't you try and get to sleep. I'll try to get the other adults to explain this to you tomorrow. I think they may be better at it."

"Okay," said Evelyn, conceding.

"Now get some sleep," said Diana, pulling her close and kissing Evelyn on the head.

Diana pulled away before she got up and walked over to the door. Looking at her cousin, she gave Evelyn a look. Evelyn nodded.

"Goodnight honey," said Diana.

"Night cousin Di," said Evelyn.

Diana smiled at the old nickname and then turned off the light. Shutting the door, Diana made her way down the hall to the rest of the family in the area that had managed to gather together.

Evelyn waited until the footsteps faded away before getting out of bed. Evelyn walked over to the window seat and opened the curtain. Gazing up at the stars, Evelyn began to whisper.

"If anyone is out there this is Evelyn. I'm not sure if someone is there or not, but Mom says someone is always watching over me and Ava from school says our an-cest-ors watch over us so I guess there is.

"Mom and Dad are gone and so is my brother Michael and sister Addy. Apparently a lot of other people are too, but I don't really know. The adults won't tell me anything.

"I don't know why they're gone, but cousin Di said it wasn't because I was bad. But if that is why everyone is gone I promise I'll be a good girl. Even if it's not, I'll still be a good girl.

"I'll eat all my vegetables. I'll do my homework. I'll do my chores. I won't fight with my siblings. I'll go to bed on time. I'll listen to Mom and Dad and all the other adults. I'll be good the rest of my days, whatever that means. If I do all that can my family come back? Whoever is out there will you please let them come back."

Evelyn pouted and gazed at the star Dad said was the north star.

"Please. Let my family come back."

Evelyn curled up one the window seat and continued to whisper promises, wanting her family back.

A few hours later, Diana walked up the room Evelyn was staying in. Opening the door, Diana gazed into to check in on her cousin before heading to bed herself. Diana furrowed her brows upon realizing her cousin wasn't in bed. Looking around, Diana spotted her curled upon on the window seat.

Diana frowned and quietly walked over. Carefully, Diana pulled Evelyn into her arms and carried her over to the bed. Diana laid Evelyn down and tucked the sheets and quilt around her. Kissing Evelyn's forehead, Diana looked at her cousin sadly. Diana wasn't sure whether or not to be jealous Evelyn didn't understand what was going on, or sad that she didn't know what was going on. Diana only hoped this would be solved before Evelyn realized what was going on. She shouldn't have to deal with what was going on.

"I'll keep an eye on her and Xavier," promised Diana, hoping Evelyn's parents could hear her, wherever they were.

* * *

_Denial and/or Isolation_

* * *

Isaac couldn't remember much. He remembered everything in flashes. The sound of metal grinding when the first responders got him out of the car. The blinding sunlight and the flashing sirens. He could recall the feeling of the gurney beneath him as he was loaded into the ambulance. The feeling of the ambulance rushing down the road.

Isaac remembered the EMTs or paramedics, or whoever they were, working on him. The sound of their voices urging him to stay awake. The feeling of them working on his leg which had blended into the massive wave of pain of various notes. He remembered them unloading him from the ambulance.

Isaac could remember being strapped to a gurney, an IV inserted into his inner elbow (or was it his hand?), and the wait. The wait seemed to drag on in between his bouts of consciousness and unconsciousness. The fluorescent lights blinding him. The sound of medical person running around. The noise of a hospital and all the chaos. The sight of the halls lined with people in hospital beds or gurneys. There were so many other injured. Then, medical personnel taking him away. Isaac blacked out.

Isaac could recall coming in and out of consciousness from that point onwards in brief bouts. Everything was fuzzy and he felt like his mind was stuffed full of cotton. He didn't remember much from that time. He remembered the blinding light, all of the white, and the medical personnel in his room. Isaac could also recall some of the dialogue between the personnel as they hovered above him and around his room.

"-the knee-"

"-tore a majority of his tendons, the poor dear."

"-the damage?"

"-physical therapy - will be needed-"

"-kept on heavy pain medication while he heals-"

"-family?"

"-his mother in the car - she wasn't there - gone - like the others."

"He should be waking up soon."

Isaac came to slowly after an unknown amount of time. Isaac could feel his body first and his limbs felt heavy, but everything was numb like. He tried to open his eyes, but almost immediately closed them to the blinding light. Slowly, Isaac tried to open them again, blinking rapidly to adjust.

Once he could see, Isaac tried to look around. The room was hospital white and well lit by fluorescent lights leading to a blinding combination. Isaac could see the machines scattered around the hospital bed he was in, all monitoring him he presumed. The room was empty with only a few chairs in addition to the machinery. A window to his left faced outside and a window on the right was presumably to monitor him.

Isaac looked down at himself. He was wearing a hospital gown and was covered by a white sheet and a pale green blanket. Isaac could feel something on his right leg, but he couldn't tell what it was under the blankets.

Isaac tried to think back to what had happened. A car crash. He was brought to the hospital. He had to wait to be treated. He remembered flashes of people treating him. Then…

Isaac froze. That couldn't have happened. It couldn't have been real. You can't dissolve to ashes or whatever that was. Isaac, looking for a call button, found one and hit it.

The next span of time was a bit of a blur. A group of medical personnel were coming in and out of his room, checking him and trying to explain what had happened to him. Isaac tried to follow, but everything was a blur. He could hear the words, but he couldn't understand them. Besides, his mind kept wandering to his mom and what the hell had happened to her.

"Okay, doc, I thank you for taking care of me, but everything is a bit of a blur to me right now and nothing is really clicking. Could we do this when my head isn't feeling like it is full of cotton," inturrupted Isaac.

The doctor paused and gave a nod. Isaac noticed two nurses giving a look that clearly said one or both had proposed the idea earlier. Nurse Knight and Nurse Nemec, Isaac believed.

"Of course," Dr. Lililth Johnson said, "I'll be back within a few hours to go over this with you. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest and have something light to eat."

"Doc," asked Isaac, taking the opportunity, "Where is my mom? Viola Aarons."

The room went from full of noise to extreme quiet only broken by the sound of the machines in seconds. Dr. Johnson had gone pale and so had the nurses. The group glanced at each other before Nurse Knight walked forward to his beside and began speaking gently and calmly.

"Isaac, what is the last thing you remember before you were brought to the hospital after the accident," asked the nurse.

Isaac paused, trying to think. Isaac said, "I remember talking to my mom. Then… she hit hard on the brakes. She threw her arm in front of me … I remember waking up. I remember pain. My mom… she was hurt. I tried to keep her awake. Then, she was gone," Isaac paused, confusion evident on his face. "I… I saw… I saw her turn to dust. How is that possible?"

Isaac looked at the medical staff. The staff looked either sad, pitying, uncomfortable, or a mix of all three.

"No," said Isaac, shaking his head. A feeling of panic and anxiety and denial gripping him. "She can't be gone. What happened? What happened? A person can't just… just turn to… to dust like that. That just can't happen."

"Isaac," Nurse Knight said calmly, looking at him calmly, "A few days ago, the same day as your crash in fact, people all over the world began disappearing. They turned to… ash. We are uncertain as to why, but there is talk of a fight in Wakanda with the Avengers involved against another alien attack. Unfortunately, this is all we know. People are calling it the Decimation"

"No," muttered Isaac in denial and shock. "She can't be gone. She can't. She can't be gone. She can't be here one minute and gone the next."

"Isaac," said Nurse Knight soothingly, placing a hand on the bed railing, "I'm sorry, but it is true."

Isaac didn't listen. His mom was gone. His mom was gone. She was gone. That was all Isaac could think, all he could fixate on. She was gone. Isaac could feel the tears well in his eyes.

"Isaac, would you like one of us to stay with you? Or talk to the hospital chaplin," Nurse Knight offered.

"No," Isaac choked out, "I want to be alone."

"Okay Isaac," Nurse Knight said, looking a bit skeptical, but accepting, "We'll be back to check on you soon, though. Call if you need anything."

"I only need my mom," Isaac retorted.

Nurse Knight frowned, but nodded. She looked at her colleagues and they all began to file out. Nurse Knight followed and joined her fellow nurses in the hallway.

"Is it wise to leave him alone, Nurse Knight," asked the youngest nurse, Cecelia Dorian.

"Maybe not, but we'll keep a close eye on him," said Nurse Knight before turning to face Dr Johnson, "Unless you wish otherwise?"

"No," said Dr. Johnson, shaking her head, "I trust your judgement. You interact with the patients the most. I think you'll have a better idea of how he'll react. However, I want some to check on him every fifteen minutes. Just look in to see how he is."

The nurses nodded. Dr. Johnson nodded in response and left to go to her next patient. The three nurses, however, stayed and glanced in at the young man.

"It feels wrong to just leave him," Nurse Dorian muttered.

"I know dearie," said Nurse Nemec, the older nurse nodding, "But there is nothing we can do right now. In a little bit we can come back to check, but for now he needs to have time to himself."

Isaac looked up at the ceiling as he cried. This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening. Yeah there had been crazy shit going on the last few years, but people turning to dust? No. That could not be happening. It couldn't be. How could there even be something or someone who could do that?

"She can't be gone," muttered Isaac. "We were supposed to do movie night."

* * *

**Author's Note:** That's it for chapter two. Once again, constructive criticism and advice is welcome and encouraged. I could use the feedback. Especially when it comes to the realm of character growth and progression later on. I'm not too sure that I'm good at it.

If you haven't figured it out, the title of this story is a reference to the five stages of grief and mourning in psychology. I use the basis of the five stages, how everyone goes through the stages at their own pace and order, and the characteristics of the stages as the base for my story. Admittedly, this may not be entirely accurate as how the process goes, but I tried my best to keep it semi-accurate. It's more of a lose inspiration.

Also, just for info Deborah is meant to be Catholic if you are curious. I'm not sure if I did good a depicting it, though.

That's all. Thank you for reading.

-Miss Corrine

* * *

_Chapter published July 13th, 2019._


	3. Chapter 3: Stage Two

**Author's Note: **Here is chapter three.

The warnings for this chapter are as follows. First, the typical depiction of grief and mourning. Second, depiction of depression. Third, mild references to other mental health concerns, issues, and treatment. Fourth, depiction of religious characters and their beliefs. That's all I can see as potentially being an issue. So, here you go.

* * *

**Stages**

* * *

Chapter Three: Stage Two

* * *

2019

* * *

_Denial and/or Isolation_

* * *

"How are you feeling dad?"

"Grandad, I'm going to be in the area, do you want to meet up or I could come over to your house for a visit?"

A year had passed since the Decimation and nothing had changed. There was no way to reverse what had been done. The gone would stay gone. Their family and friends would have to learn to move on. They'd have to learn to never imagined it would be this hard to move on, to live without them.

The last year had seemed to go by so quickly. Everybody was clinging to those they had left. Everyone was trying to help everyone. Everyone trying to figure out what to do. William had spent his time trying to help his family. Trying to keep everyone together. They had lost so many. Those left needed to stay together.

Patricia was only the first go. Also lost was their daughters Elizabeth and Caroline. Their sons-in-law, David and Arthur, were gone along with their daughter-in-law, Robin. They had even lost some of their grandchildren from Jess to Michael and Addy. Also lost was their first grandchild-in-law, Tommy, leaving his wife Alexandra alone only after a few months of marriage. They had lost so much and only were just beginning to figure out how to pick up the pieces.

The months of chaos had kept William busy. He hadn't had time to stop and think about what had happened. He promised he'd be there for his family and he was. He was always there, helping and supporting his family.

Then, as the chaos started to die down, William found himself floundering. Without the distraction, without the task of having something to do, William found himself fully being able to understand what was going on. To come to the realization he had truly lost Deborah.

The early months had been such a distraction that William had never fully noticed her absence. There was so much to keep him busy or hold his attention. But now, when he had nothing to do except be alone at his home, he started to notice that she wasn't there.

The realization was a slow one. A very slow one. The more he came to realize it, the more painful it was. He tried to ignore that she was gone, but it didn't work. Here he was, alone in his home, without his wife by his side. She was never coming back.

When he started realizing his wife was truly gone, he had gone to his family. Then, he realized, they had already begun learning to move on. William would not drag them back down with him. They were finding their own way to deal with this, he could as well. Moreso, seeing his children and grandchildren reminded him that his wife was gone. He could see her in each of them. He thought it would be a comfort to see a little bit of Patricia in each of them, but it caused more pain than he expected. It just reminded him that he would never have her back.

William missed his wife. He missed her so much. He hadn't been without her for fifty years. Around his family he was reminded of what he lost, but if he stayed home, alone, he could almost pretend she was still with him.

William could pretend she was still here. He could pretend she had just went to the store or out with friends or went on a short trip to visit her family. With everything the same in the house as before, William could believe it so easily. He could deny that anything had ever happened.

William managed to do this for months. He managed to convince himself that she could come back, that she was just gone for a little while. William shut himself off so he could live in his own little world where she was alive, she just needed to come home.

William's family, however, had caught on eventually. They realized he was answering very few of the calls or texts they were sending him. They realized no one had talked to him longer than pleasantries or updates in months. They learned from his neighbors that he rarely left his house except for grocery shopping. The last time anyone saw him had been at the family Christmas party, or attempted family Christmas party.

Once his family caught on, they hadn't given up. Least of all had been Kiera, who was stubborn as her grandmother and determined to get him out of the house. Leading William to this situation.

"-why are you shutting yourself off from us, grandfather," pleaded, no, demanded Kiera.

"You wouldn't understand," said William, shaking his head slightly.

"Wouldn't understand," asked Kiera, "You think I wouldn't understand? That any of us wouldn't understand. Grandfather, we all lost someone.

" Uncle Charles lost Aunt Robin and Lark. Uncle Harrison lost Aunt Elizabeth and Jess. Mum lost Dad and I lost my father in the process. Alexandra lost Tommy just three months after their wedding and soon found out she was pregnant after losing him. She now has to raise her twins while trying to figure out how to cope with her husband's death. Her children will never know their father. Hell, Evelyn and Xavier lost their parents and their siblings. Those aren't the only ones lost, either. We have all struggled with our loss and we still are.

"That doesn't mean we have to do it alone. You were there for all of us in the beginning. Why can't we be here for you now," concluded Kiera, looking at her grandfather imploringly.

"I want to be alone," William told Kiera, tired and wanting Kiera to stop reminding him of how much they had lost.

"So you can stay in denial," Kiera asked questioningly, moving her hands to her hips, "That's not healthy grandfather."

"I don't care," William rebuffed, "I'm not dragging any of you down with me."

"Dragging us down," asked Kiera, sounding incredulous, "You won't drag us down. We can help you just like you helped us. You shouldn't go through this alone."

"Please, Kiera, leave me alone," said William, "I want to be alone."

Kiera let out a frustrated sigh. Why did her grandfather have to be so stubborn? Why did her whole family have to be so stubborn?

"Fine," Kiera said, "I'll leave you alone for now. But, I want you to remember one thing. In those days after the Decimation you said you would take care of this family. You said we'd all take care of each other. If you continue this way, you won't be taking care of us. You may think you are, but you're not. And if you keep rebuffing us, we won't be able to help you.

"But never forget, family takes care of family no matter what. We do not let each other go through anything alone. We are not going to leave you alone, despite your attempts at rebuffing us. Not now, not ever. You and Grandma taught us better. Goodbye Grandfather. "

William watched as Kiera gathered her stuff and left. William let out a sigh when he heard the door slam shut behind her followed by the sound of her car starting a few minutes.

William knew he said he'd help his family, but he couldn't. Not when seeing them reminded him of what he lost. Not when the possibility of helping him would drag them down from the progress they were making.

So, William would stay alone. Far from what could remind him that his wife had died and left him all alone. Far from a family that was beginning to understand how to move and pick up the pieces. He would stay in a world where he could still believe his wife would come back, no matter how much that world seemed to be shattering. William did not want to deal with a world where his love was not alive.

* * *

_Bargaining_

* * *

Rose pulled her coat tighter around herself as she pulled open the door to the church. Walking inside, she stomped her boots against the mat, hoping to get the snow off from the late season snowstorm that had hit. Pulling her hood back, Rose looked around the narthex. It had been a while since she was last here.

Rose quickly made her way through the church building to where the chapel was located. Standing before the chapel doors she took a deep breath. Reaching inside her coat pocket, she pulled out her mantilla and quickly pinned it to her hair with a bobby pin. Rose took a second deep breath and made her way inside.

Rose dipped her fingers in the holy water and made the sign of the cross before walking to one of the pews and genuflecting before taking a seat. Rose knew it would be more proper to kneel, but this always worked better when sitting for her.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," began Rose, making the sign of her cross to begin her prayers. "Hi God.

"I know it's been awhile since we last talked. Close to a year, actually. At least since I formally talked to you. Everything has just been rough, trying to navigate all of this. But I know I've neglected my relationship with You. It's just painful to come here, to pray to You, to talk to You, when I'm having trouble believing in You. I know you should work through my doubt, but it's hard considering all what has happened. I had trouble fathoming You, believing in You, before any of this even happened, and now I just wonder how You could let this happen.

"Fifty percent, half, of all life on Earth is gone. All of it turned to ash, or dust. I don't fully understand how a merciful god could allow that. Dad used to say we could never fully understand You though. Trying to understand You was like playing poker blindfolded and not knowing the rules of the game was the gist of how Dad explained it.

"I've tried to turn to You in the last year, but it is hard. It's been so, so hard. It has been so hard that I've walked away from the church. Everything is just so confusing. I don't know what to think, and faith and belief has never come easy to me."

Rose took a breath. Her head was all over the place. She couldn't even remember where she had really been going with this. Her mind was buzzing.

"The one year anniversary passed. Memorial services were held all across the world. I attended the one at the state capital building here. Not my best idea admittedly. I had a panic attack half way through. I just wasn't ready to go.

"I miss my parents so much. I know it has been a year, but I still miss them. I feel so alone. I know I still have my brother and some other family left, but it is not the same. I am not close to any other members of my family and I have not really been close to my brother for a few years. We are just so different with different philosophies and beliefs and views on life and the world.

"I don't feel like I can relax around anyone anymore. I feel like I always have to keep my guard up. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells. I don't feel myself around them or that I can be myself.

"I just want my parents back. I want them back so badly. I'd do anything to have them back. I just want them back. I want the people who understand me to come back.

"Life without them feels wrong. I honestly don't know how I've made it through the past year. It has either been a blur or painful clarity. It felt either too slow or too fast. I've missed them so much. Not having them there is just wrong. I never imagined life without them. Life without them just feels wrong. That's the only way I can describe it.

"I know I'm not the only one who wants family back, but I want them back so badly. I'd do anything for them to come back. I feel frightened at how much I'd be willing to do to get them back. I could make you many shallow promises in exchange for my family, but they'd be that: shallow.

"I could promise I'd come to church every week, pray daily, attended reconciliation more often, but those are just some of the requirements to be a practicing Catholic anyway. I could promise to do a work of mercy everyday. I could promise to dedicate my life to helping others. I could bargain my soul for theirs if You did stuff like that. I just know I want them back and I think I'd do anything to get them back.

"I want them back so bad," Rose whispered, gripping herself tight.

"I feel like I would do anything to get them back. I feel desperate for them back. I love them so much and I want them back. Even a year later and it still feels wrong without them. Why did they have to be taken? I'd do anything for them to come back, but would it be the same? Or is going to be like the resurrection stone from Harry Potter where they are only shades of themselves if they come back?

"I want my parents back. I miss them so much. I don't know what to do without them. I want them back so badly and I am so willing to trade everything for them back, even if just for a day. I want them back, God. I want my parents back."

Rose continued to talk. She talked about everything and anything, hopping from subject to subject, going wherever her mind lead her. She needed to get it out and she felt safer here. Or, more accurately, she felt she could be genuine here. She didn't have to act how she thought she should act around her family or society.

The chapel gave off a calming atmosphere. The inner sanctuary of the church just made her feel so small, so intimidated. Here, she felt like she was at home. It was small, intimate, private, and felt like she was bundled up in a comfy blanket. Rose hadn't felt that way anywhere, most of all in a church, in a while. Church and religion had slowly become oppressive feeling to Rose the older she got. Especially since she wasn't entirely sure God was real. Faith and belief were difficult topics for her. Yet, she still talked to Him occasionally as if He was real when she needed it.

Rose stopped after talking after a while. Sitting for a moment in silence, Rose began pulling on the light weight winter wear she had taken off while praying. Rose quietly left the pew after bundling herself up. Genuflecting, Rose left the chapel.

Rose made her way to an offshoot of the antechamber which was before the chapel. Set up in an alcove was a simple kneeler before a statue of the Virgin Mary surrounded by dozens upon dozens of prayer candles. Rose carefully navigated her way to the stand that held the small tea candles coming to a stop a foot before it.

Grabbing her wallet, Rose pulled out a five and slipped it into the slot in the base. Rose then grabbed the lighter and struggled to light three candles: one for her dad, one for her mom, and one for everyone lost. Dropping the lighter down, Rose said a quick prayer for each candle.

Rose then kneeled before the Virgin Mary statue. Bowing her head, she asked:

"Blessed Virgin Mary pray for us. Blessed Virgin Mary pray for the repose of the souls of the dead. Blessed Virgin Mary please intercede for us. Blessed Virgin Mary watch over us," said Rose before praying the Hail Mary and Regina Coleil. Despite her uncertainty about God, Rose had always saw Mary as more… real. Or at least more relatable to, since she had been human and lived on earth before ascending to Heaven. Rose finished with an Our Father.

"I don't know how much the prayers of a disbeliever are worth, but please let the prayers of a daughter be worth something," Rose murmmed quietly.

Rose stood up and removed her mantilla. Rose took the long way home to where she and her brother lived this time, using the time to think. The ache she had walked into church had subsided a bit, but it was still there. Rose missed her parents and she would do anything to get them back.

* * *

_Bargaining_

* * *

Deborah tied the belt of her coat tighter around herself as she walked out of the building. Deborah breathed deeply, the cold burning her lungs.

Deborah began walking the streets, observing the once familiar city. After a year, nothing was the same. The streets were less crowded. Buildings were partially or fully abandoned. Everything was more sedate. The atmosphere was quiet, sluggish, and bleak. Nothing was the same.

Deborah stopped when she passed the large boards that were around the city. The final three design ideas for the memorial. Memorials to the dusted were being planned all over the world from the capitals to the major cities to the smallest towns. A testament to the day where Earth lost half her population and then some. In New York City, the board in charge of the city had already limited all the submitted designs to three finalists. Deborah was partial to the one that was a large reflective wall with the NYC skyline etched on with the names of the people lining the wall. But…

Deborah shook her head and kept walking. A memorial was not the same as having the people back.

Deborah continued her walk, heading to her destination. When Deborah looked up at the cathedral towering above her she wasn't sure what to feel. Part of her felt intimidated while the rest of her felt nothing, a hollow numb of sorts. Deborah wasn't quite sure what to feel.

Deborah made her way inside, finding her way to her preferred pew and kneeling down.

"Hello God," began Deborah. " I know all the times I've come here for the last year I was not in the best mood, and I'm… sorry for how harsh I was.

"Well, it was more complicated than that. I was angry. Angry beyond belief. I had just lost so many people. I know people lose someone every day, but that day we all lost at least one person.

"I still can't fathom that all of it happened over a year ago. It simultaneously felt like an eternity and a few minutes at once, having all that time pass by.

"I still find myself slipping up some days. I'll go to call one of the girls from the building only to remember they're gone. Or I'll think about inviting Max and his boys up for dinner or desert and remember they're gone. It's like having it happen all over again.

"I miss them. I miss all of them. It seems like everyday I'm learning of more and more people who were dusted even a year later. It's a shock each time. Some of them are people I barely gave a thought to, but now that they are gone I can tell.

"Danielle is no longer here to offer up something she cooked when she cooked to much for herself and share it while we discuss our students. Jim is no longer at the school to stop by with a cup of coffee when I stay late to plan something. There are so many people I never really noticed who are gone.

"Everything has become so hollow feeling. A few are managing to cope, but not everyone. The city itself feels sick and sad. It's so empty feeling, even in a big city like New York. I can't imagine what it must feel like to live in a smaller town where it would be more pronounced.

"I am not sure who this is worse for, this whole mess. We have those who lost family and friends to be dusted. We are left without closure because we don't know what really happened to them. If they are dead or if something else happened to them. We don't know if they could ever come back.

"Yet, we also have the people who know their family died. When the dusting happened we lost a lot of key people, important people. We lost pilots and drivers leading to countless and I mean countless plane crashes and car accidents where people died.

"Then, we also lost the doctors, nurses, surgeons, and medical personnel who could treat the injured. We lost so many people who could've been saved because we just didn't have enough people to treat those who needed help. The shortage of medical personnel also lead to people who were already in hospitals being treated to die because the personnel were off trying to save those who had been injured.

"This has left so many people mourning their family and friends, knowing that there is no chance they can come back. I'm not sure what is worse. The hope of someone coming back or the finality of knowing your loved one can never come back while watching others have hope that may pay out."

Deborah paused and took a breath. The last year had been so rough. She took a moment to think. She had a point she wanted to get across when she came in.

"I just came from the doctor's today," revealed Deborah quietly. "I'm two years into remission.

"When the Decimation happened last year, Max and Robert had been planning a remission for one year party, even when I told them it wasn't necessary. I said if anything we should be celebrating Robert upcoming sixtieth birthday or Joan finishing her chemotherapy before moving on to radiation,"

Deborah paused, thinking of the woman who was beginning to waste away.

"God, I prayed and prayed when I was fighting my cancer. Let me live so I could watch Max, the closest thing I had to a son, raise his own sons to be young men. And you answered my prayers. Well, now I have a new one," Deborah said, taking a breath and steeling herself.

"Do with me what You wish. You can do whatever You want to me. You can have my cancer return, You can do anything. I only ask one thing. Give me back my boys. Give me back Max and Ezra and Elijah. Let them live. I don't care what You do to me, do anything, just return them home. Bring my family back," pleaded Deborah.

Deborah stared forwards. First to the tabernacle and then to the crucifix. She let herself have a few moments, just taking the time to herself to breath.

"I know You don't do deals like this. You don't trade lives. But, I want them back. I know they aren't mine to keep, but I want them back. I want them back so bad.

"I like to think I've been a good daughter and servant to You. I have followed Your commandments, I have done what You have asked of me, I have done penance for my sins. I'm still learning everything I can about You, the church, and the faith. I have done everything. Please, let me have this."

Deborah paused again. She was being selfish she knew, but she wanted them back so badly.

"I don't know what I'd do if I don't get my boys back. I haven't felt the same since I lost them. I've already lost too many children, don't make me lose another, please. Give them back to us and then to do whatever You wish to me.

"If You don't… well, when it's my time to meet I'll be looking forward to having a very long conversation with You. I'll have a lot of questions I'll be wanting answers to.

"So, I'm begging You. Do with me what You wish, but let the boys come home."

* * *

_Depression_

* * *

"Evie, do you want to come watch a movie with us?"

"No thank you Di."

Diana frowned as she looked at her younger cousin. Evelyn wasn't the same anymore. As time went by and everyone started to realize their was no way to bring the dusted back did the brunt of realization start to hit. Not even Evelyn herself was unaffected. She use to be a sweet, happy, energetic, cheerful girl, but now she was a shell of her former self.

Nothing interested Evelyn anymore. Evelyn wouldn't play with her brother or by herself. Gone were her days of daydreaming and playing pretend. Evelyn wouldn't join in for family movie night unless forced or asked by Xavier. Evelyn wouldn't read anymore, not even from the book of fairytales Diana owned from her childhood. Evelyn was losing interest in school and her grades were beginning to drop.

Evelyn wouldn't talk to anyone and when she did she couldn't seem to get her feelings across. Evelyn wasn't spending time with her friends or family. When she did she seemed so confused. Diana had heard her cry herself to sleep a few nights

Diana had a sinking feeling that Evelyn was developing childhood depression. Diana had enough experience with depression to recognize some symptoms, but she just didn't expect them in someone so young.

Diana felt like she was looking at a different person when she interacted with Evelyn and Diana didn't know what to do. A therapist would be a wise idea, but Diana wasn't sure how she could afford it. She could barely afford her own sessions now. She'd have to ask her parents for advice.

Diana sighed. The family was in shambles after the Decimation. There were so many gone, both in the immediate family and the extended family.

The matriarch of the family, Grandma Patricia, was gone. Aunt Robin was gone. Lark was gone. Alexandra's husband Tommy was gone, now leaving her to raise their twins alone. Aunt Elizabeth was gone along with Jess. Aunt Caroline, Evelyn and Xavier's mom, was gone along with her husband and oldest two children. Those weren't the only ones. So many others were gone.

Diana was lucky, so very lucky. Both of her parents, James and Desiree, were still alive. So were her siblings Renee and Raphael. That left her part of the family as the support for everyone else.

Diana honestly hadn't planned on becoming her cousin's guardian, but she was one of the few choices. All of Diana's aunts and uncles, and therefore Evelyn and Xavier's aunts and uncles, still had their own children who were minors that they needed to take care of. None of them were even sure if they could keep up with two kids so young. Aunt Caroline had been the baby of the family, much younger than her siblings.

Alexandra, Kiera, and herself were the oldest of their generation, so thoughts had turned to them. But Alexandra was pregnant with her twins when custody of the siblings was being navigated. Alexandra could not raise four kids, especially by herself. Kiera was a thought, but by her own admission she didn't have the patience to care for two young children alone. So, soon after turning twenty-one Diana found herself as the guardian of her younger cousins.

(Sometimes, after rough days, Diana wondered if her, Alexandra, and Kiera should have just moved in together and raised Alexandra's twins, Evelyn, and Xavier together. The three of them together surely could have managed.)

Diana shook her head. The family at large was not her concern. Right now, her concern should be on Evelyn and Xavier. She needed to make a call to her dad and ask for his help figuring out what to do about finding a therapist for Evelyn, one she could afford. If necessary, Diana would reduce her number of visits to her own to pay for Evelyn's sessions.

"Well, if you change your mind you are welcome to join us," said Diana in a last attempt to get through to Evelyn.

Evelyn nodded dejectedly and Diana left. Evelyn looked up at the sound of her door closing. Evelyn knew Diana was worried about her. She could tell. She got a look similar to Mom when she was worried about her.

Evelyn paused and hugged her stuffed animal close to her chest. She missed her mom and dad. She missed her brother and sister. She missed her Aunt Robin and Lark even if she didn't see them often because they lived farther away. She missed Aunt Elizabeth and Jess. She missed cousin Alexandra's husband, Tommy. He was nice and made Alexandra smile so pretty. She missed Grandma Patricia.

Evelyn felt sad, really, really, really sad. She didn't really know why. She couldn't describe being anything other than sad. She had tried, but it was hard to explain.

Evelyn didn't know what was going on. She just felt so sad. It got worse after the anniversary. Everyone was talking about her parents and siblings and her aunts and her cousins as if they were gone for good. Everyone was starting to give up hope those who were gone could come back. Everyone was getting sad, too. More than they were before. At least she wasn't the only one.

Evelyn missed feeling happy. Now she just felt icky. She couldn't describe it, but Diana seemed to know what she meant and that made her look so much worried. Evelyn didn't want Diana to worry. Diana didn't smile as pretty when she worried.

Evelyn turned to look towards at a picture of her parents and siblings. It was one of the family photos taken after Xavier had been born.

"Why did you have to leave," asked Evelyn in a whisper. She knew it was a bit silly to talk to someone who wasn't there, but she couldn't help it. "I miss you. I miss you all. I want you to come home. When can you come home? I know you can even if no one else thinks so. I miss you so much.

"I'm scared," confessed Evelyn. "I can't really remember what your voice sounds like Mom. Dad, I can't remember the sound of your laugh too well. I don't think Xavier even remembers you anymore. I heard him call Diana 'mommy' once, even after Diana corrected him. If you won't come back for me please come back for him.

"I'm so sad mom and I don't know why. I don't feel happy anymore. Just sad. Mom, I want to feel happy again," said Evelyn.

Evelyn turned to the door at the sound of the movie starting and Xavier's laugh. Maybe she should join. Evelyn started to get up, but she saged back down. She didn't want to move.

"I want to be happy again," muttered Evelyn, tears pricking at her eyes.

Why did she feel this way? Why did she feel this way? Why couldn't she feel better? Why couldn't she feel happy? What was wrong with her?

All she felt was sad, so sad. She felt icky. She felt like everything was just clinging to her. All this sadness. It was all she had now. Why couldn't she be happy? Feel happy?

Evelyn felt so alone without her family.

* * *

_Anger_

* * *

Anger is an emotion that everyone experiences in their life. Isaac knew that. He had been angry before. But never in his life had he been this full of anger.

A year had passed since the Decimation and had lost so much in the last year. First, he lost his mother. Then, he learned his injury to his right knee and leg from the car crash was permanent. Physical therapy would help gain most of his mobility and strength back, but he'd forever have a damaged knee. To top it off, he lost his athletic scholarship because of his injury. He was no longer able to compete so the scholarship wasn't an option. Therefore, he couldn't go to college. The scholarship was the main source of how he was going to pay for his college education. His mom had created a college fund account which she added money here and there when they were in a good place financially, but it would barely cover him getting an associates degree. (That wasn't counting the money needed for textbooks and other supplies.)

All he felt was anger. He was angry with his mom for leaving. He was angry that he'd never be able to play sports again. He was angry that he lost his scholarship. He was angry that he couldn't afford to go to college. He was angry that he was still stuck doing physical therapy. He was angry at the world for beginning to give up hope and move on.

Isaac was so angry. He was angry he couldn't do what he wanted to do in life. In one foul swoop, all of his plans for his life had been ruined. In one swoop, everything had been taken away.

Isaac leaned back in his chair, ready to make his way out of the room where his physical therapy had just ended. He hated physical therapy. His physical therapist, Mina Harp, was a hard taskmistress. She was one of the most commanding women Isaac had ever met. She pushed him and pushed him and pushed him.

"She has a special way of making people hate her, doesn't she?"

Isaac looked up, slightly startled. A man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties dressed in gym clothes was standing next to his chair.

"What," asked Isaac, confused and a little irritated because who the heck was this guy?

"Mina," said the man nodding in the direction she had walked off in, "She really knows how to push people and they usually end up not being happy with her when she does."

"Yeah," Isaac agreed, nodding, "She does. You know her?"

The man nodded and took a seat next to Isaac at the table where Isaac had been doing some exercises.

"Yeah. She was my physical therapist after I came back from Afghanistan. I was one of her first patients after her schooling," the man said, "We've kept in touch."

Isaac nodded. He was a bit confused as to why this guy was talking to him, but was willing to roll with it for a while even if part of him wanted to tell the man to piss off. Mom had taught him his manners which were still well ingrained in him.

"You're military," Isaac asked.

"Marines. Eight years of duty until an IED got me a medical discharge," said the man before offering his hand out, "Aiden Michaels."

"Isaac Jackson," said Isaac shaking his hand. "What are you doing here? Still have physical therapy?"

"No, actually," said Aiden, "I came to see if Mina had anyone she wanted to point in my direction for help."

"Help," questioned Isaac, curious. What kind of help did he offer? PTSD support for veterans was Isaac's best guess.

"Yeah," said Aiden, "I run a gym in Hell's Kitchen. Mina points those with PTSD in my direction. I host a support group there."

Isaac nodded before asking, "You get many people."

"Quite a few actually," said Aiden, "I like to think me and my guys do a good job trying to help others,"

A pause.

"You know, you remind me of some of the kids I see come into my gym."

"What," asked Isaac, feeling confused at the abrupt change. Aiden merely nodded, looking calm.

"The look in your eyes," Aiden said, "The anger, the hurt, all of it. I see it in the kids and teens who come into my gym. It's the look you have when you are angry at the world."

Isaac remained silent, unsure what to say. Isaac really had no idea what this guy was getting at. But whatever it was, Isaac was getting very weary of him.

"I can help," offered Aiden.

"How could you help," asked Isaac disbelievingly, not denying his anger which spiked, begging to be let out after being bottled up for so long.

"I teach a class to beginners at my gym in basic self defense and many stay to keep learning. The working out, the exercises, help a lot of people get their anger out. It can help," explained Aiden.

"You think I can work out with how badly my knee and leg are injured," Isaac asked disbelievingly, "I'm in physical therapy for a reason."

"I think anything is possible if you are determined," said Aiden, "And we can help you, despite your injury."

"Well, it's not," Isaac spit out, anger rising, "I can barely even walk, you think I can fight? The car accident I was in screwed me over and still is. I didn't just injure myself permanently, I lost my athletics scholarship which was my only ticket to college."

"I think you won't know until you've tried," said Aiden calmly, carefully ignoring Isaac's rising anger, "The human body is an amazing thing. If you ever want to try, come stop by. Here is my card. I'm willing to help, but you need to make the first step. We can help. You don't need to be alone."

Aiden set down a business card on the table and got up, walking to where Mina was. Isaac sat in his chair, anger coursing, as he picked up and looked at the business card. Did he honestly think Isaac could fight? Did he think he could actually help him?

Isaac grit his teeth. That man did not know how he felt. He could not even start to know how he felt. But part of Isaac was curious. Could he help?

Isaac shook his head. The man could not help him. Aiden did not know what he was going through. Why should he even trust Aiden? Because he said he knew Mina? No.

Isaac shook his head and got up. Isaac made his way out of the physical therapy room and into the hallway. Isaac stopped by a trashcan in the hall, about to drop the card in the trash, but he hesitated. The memories of some of the words of his friends had told him rushed back at him. He remembered his friends saying how he had changed. How he was different. Isaac paused.

Isaac knew he had changed. Everyone had changed. But had he changed as much as his friends say? Isaac looked at the card and then put it into his pocket. Maybe he had. He didn't feel the same as he had before. Anger dominated him now. Isaac wasn't sure if he wanted that to define him or drive him. He would have to think.

* * *

**Author's Note:** That's it for chapter three. Once again, constructive criticism and advice is welcome and encouraged. I could use the feedback.

Additional info, Rose also is intended to be Catholic like Deborah. The mantilla (also called a chapel veil) mentioned in her section is a type of veil some Catholic women wear during Mass or in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament (for those unfamiliar with the term). It's apparently an old practice that fell out of favor, but is starting to come back. Varying reasons are given for why a woman chooses to wear it.

Furthermore, I had to add some of what I thought was going on in the world at the time. Most of that is seen in Deborah's section, especially the reality of what realistically would've happened during the Snap.

Also, while there will still be the five main characters, they do have their supporting cast that occur throughout the story.

Finally, thank you to Merit Hart for your review. You made my day when I read it!

Well, I think that is all. Sorry for the rambling ANs, but that is kind of my thing at this point.

-Miss Corrine

* * *

_Chapter published July 16th, 2019._


	4. Chapter 4: Stage Three

**Author's Note: **Here is chapter four.

The warnings are pretty much the same. Depictions of the grief and mourning cycle and stages. Depression and other mental health problems are depicted. Also, some cursing. I'm not sure if that has happened in the story already, but I thought I'd just put up the warning.

* * *

**Stages**

* * *

Chapter Four: Stage Three

* * *

2020

* * *

_Denial and/or Isolation_

* * *

"How have you been Deborah?"

"How are you and Robert?"

"How was your week?"

"Are you feeling okay Deborah?"

Deborah hated the questions. The questions were well intentioned for the most part, but she still hated them. Deborah wanted to be left alone.

Deborah followed the routine she had laid down. She would wake up, do her morning routine, have breakfast, go to work, teach her students, come home, work on grading assignments and lesson planning, have dinner, continue grading assignments and lesson plans, read a book, get ready for bed, sleep, and repeat. The routine was automatic, familiar, and soothing in a way. Most of all, it was predictable.

Deborah had planned her routine down to the letter. She knew what streets to take, the route to come up to her apartment, all of it, to avoid reminders of what happened. _If_ she didn't see anything, it made it feel not quite as real.

Deborah hated straying from her routine. It opened up the possibility of something she didn't plan for. She had planned everything down to avoid something like that. Something like that had just happened yesterday.

Deborah had been coming home from work when she ran into Benjy, a nephew of a tenant, who had recently been sent to live with family. The young boy had been playing with some of the older kids when they all ran off. Benjy couldn't remember how to get back to his apartment, still new to the building.

Deborah wanted to just go to her apartment and close herself off from everything, but she couldn't resist helping Benjy. Deborah brought him up to the third floor and to apartment C5, where he lived. That's when she saw the door to apartment C8. Max and the boy's apartment.

Deborah's heart clenched. She hadn't been near the apartment in over a year. She steadfast avoided it. She didn't want the reminders that the Decimation had occurred. She saw enough of them.

(The memorial which she saw every single day. The murals. The makeshift memorials with candles and pictures and art that were still dotted around the city. The empty spaces of the city where no one resided. All of them made the reality of the situation too real.)

Deborah couldn't remember exactly what happened after that. She just made sure Benjy was safe with his guardian and then went up to her apartment. Deborah remembered having a glass of wine and trying to forget everything.

"Deborah?"

Deborah looked up at her husband. It was a Saturday and they were both enjoying their day off. Well, her day off. Robert had retired a few years back and running the apartment building was his only job now.

"Yes?"

"How are you?"

Deborah grit her teeth together. Why did he have to ask?

"I'm fine," said Deborah simply and curtly.

"Are you sure," asked Robert. He came and sat on the arm of the sofa. "Because Jonathan mentioned that you guided Benjy back to his apartment and how you left awful quickly, looking rather upset yesterday. Jonathan was worried he said something to set you off or maybe Benjy did."

Deborah sighed. Jonathan was a nice young man, but very much socially awkward and unknowledgeable. He was too used to holding himself up in his apartment with his college assignments and work. And, Benjy was still a child learning how to behave.

"I'm fine. Neither said nothing wrong."

"Are you sure, because you would've seen the boys apartment which-"

"I said I'm fine," interrupted Deborah firmly. Robert sighed.

"Deborah," started Robert, touching his wife on her shoulder. "I love you, but you can't keep doing this. You can't keep isolating yourself from others. You can't keep pretending nothing happened, that nothing is wrong. You can't just keep avoiding the reminders, hoping they will go away."

"Pretending," spit out Deborah, anger rising. "I know there gone Robert. I know they are all gone. That is very clear. I see the reminders every day. Every single day. Despite my efforts not too. I'm tired of seeing all the reminders, forcing me to remember. I'm trying to forget. I'm trying to forget something is wrong. I'm trying to forget what happened because I don't want to remember. It's too painful."

"You are not trying to forget," said Robert, "You are trying to deny what has happened, thinking the problem will resolve itself. You need to face it Deborah. The boys… the boys, they aren't going to come back."

Deborah stayed silent. She did not want to think about that. She didn't want to think about how that was true. How her boys weren't going to come back. If they were they would have been back by now. She wanted to be able to believe for a little while longer that they could come back.

"Deborah, please," said Robert, "You are going to need to face it soon. The longer you wait, the harder it will be."

Deborah remained silent and went back to reading her book. Robert sat, waiting, for a little while longer before sighing and getting up to leave the room.

Why didn't anyone get it, Deborah wondered. She didn't want to face the truth, to face reality. She didn't want this to be real. She didn't want to face the pain over having lost them. Why did everyone have to keep making her feel like she should?

Later that day, Deborah found herself walking down to the third floor. Hesitating before beginning, Deborah began to slowly move down the staircase. She lived on the uppermost floor, the fifth, and she'd have to go past the fourth floor. The fourth floor only had two apartments still in use while all the others belonged to the dusted. It was a mausoleum during the day and was even worse at night.

Still, Deborah traversed down the staircase to the third floor. The building was quiet, most having begun to settle down for the night. Deborah walked down the third floor hallway, hearing the sound of Bill Nye echoing softly from Jonathan and Benjy's apartment and classical music mixed with footsteps from Soleil's, where the young woman was most likely practicing dancing. Finally, she came to apartment C8.

Deborah wasn't sure why she was doing this. Why she was coming here. She wanted to forget all of this, but Robert's words nagged at her. She felt like she had to do this. She felt almost as if she had to prove that she was not denying the reality that the boys were gone.

Deborah stood before the door. The door was dusty and the door knob tarnished, but otherwise looked fine. Her heart raced and Deborah could hear her blood rushing in her ears. Carefully, Deborah reached out her hand and touched it. Sighing, Deborah reluctantly unlocked the door and stepped in.

Deborah switched on the lights and watched and as the apartment flickered to life. Everything was still the same. Nothing had been disturbed. Well, they had removed perishables after the first two weeks of everyone being gone, washed dishes, and picked up trash, but otherwise everything was the same. Deborah began to make her way through the apartment

The hooks for the backpacks still held the backpacks. Homework was spread out over the kitchen table. Shoes were strewn about, far apart from the other of its pair. A few of the twins toys such as their legos and Avengers action heros were spread about. The photos were still hung, showing some of the most important events in their lives. The twins' first birthday, first day of school, Elijah and his soccer team winning a game, Ezra painting, all of it. A few of Elias's trophies on shelves. Ezra's artwork hung up.

Deborah could feel the emotion welling in her chest. Her boys…

Deborah cautiously made her way to the living room. Even here, everything was the same. Already full of emotion, Deborah almost choked when the dust hit her. All she could think was of the piles of dust that were here three years ago. The dust had been cleaned up, but Deborah morbidly wondered if some of the boys was still floating around. Throat tightening, Deborah tried to continue on.

Deborah made her away to an armchair and sagged into it. Deborah gaze around, trying to let it sink in. Admittedly, she didn't want to believe her boys were gone. She may have said she just wanted to forget anything ever happened, but part of Deborah knew she was just holding out on hope they may come back. She had hoped, she had prayed, that they would come back to her. She didn't want to believe otherwise and she still didn't want to believe so..

But, Deborah couldn't deny it now. The apartment may look the same, but… it wasn't. The apartment didn't feel as alive or as loved or as lived in. Without the boys, it wasn't right. Everything that made it special was gone.

Deborah cupped a hand to her mouth and began to cry. At first, the tears were slow and there was barely any noise. Then, came the sobs and Deborah was left feeling so alone. A living person in a mausoleum.

All of this was like a slap in the face. What had her boys done to deserve being taken away? To have their life taken? The apartment, the apartment just reminded her of how much was lost.

Hours later, Deborah made her way back to her apartment. Robert was already in bed. Deborah walked over slowly and climbed into bed, slowly curling herself around her husband.

"I don't want them to be gone," confessed Deborah, voice thick with emotion. "I didn't want to admit they were gone. I wanted to be able to believe they could still come home. I want them to be home." _With us._

"I can't imagine a world, a life without them. What did they do to deserve being taken away? What did we do to deserve them being taken away from us?

"I don't want them to be gone, Robert. I don't want them to be gone. I don't want to admit they are gone. I want to have hope they can come back, but hope seems like such a curse because we don't know if we can ever have them back.

"Robert, I don't know what to do."

* * *

_Anger_

* * *

Rose let out a muffled half scream and half cry. Rose half bowed and half crouched, wrapping her arms around herself. She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream loud and clear to where everyone would hear her, understand her, and feel her pain.

Rose hated it. The anger growing in her. The littlest thing could set her off. She felt so, so angry all the time. All of it, bundled in her chest, tight and heavy, begging to be let loose.

Rose felt like crying. She was tired of anger. It was all she felt now. Either anger or numb. She wasn't fond of either. She hated when she was numb, craving the ability to feel. But now, when the anger consumed her and she felt so tired, she struggled to remember what being numb felt like. Rose wanted respite from it all.

Rose was so tired of anger. It gave her the feeling power, it allowed her to feel, but it left her feeling so tired and hollow. If felt like a double edged sword to Rose. Giving her feeling which turned to a hollowness twice as bad.

Rose was angry at the world. She was angry at her parents. She was angry at God (if He did exist, but Rose was leaning towards no most days). She was angry at herself.

Rose was angry that the world was moving on, moving forward. She was angry that the United States and the rest of the world was going through the process of declaring the dusted dead after only two years. She was angry that the home she grew up in may be snatched away from her. She was angry for the memorials being built everywhere. She was angry that everything was changing.

Rose was angry that her parents were gone. She was angry that they wouldn't be at her high school graduation in a few weeks time. She was angry they weren't there to help her through the college application process. When she wasn't sure if she wanted to start with community college and then switch to a private college or university for her final years. She was angry they weren't there to help her through her panic attacks over the ACTs and SATs and if she should just skip them and just take entrance exams which apparently was an option with some community colleges.

She was angry they weren't here when she was having constant panic attacks over becoming an adult and growing up. She was angry they were going to miss her eighteenth birthday. She was angry they won't be able to wish her luck on her first day of college. She was angry they won't be there helping remind her to take care of herself. That it was okay to take care of herself mentally and emotionally before school. That she didn't need to be perfect. To drive that through her thick, stubborn skull. She was angry that they weren't there when her anxiety got so bad that she almost checked herself into a psych ward because the thoughts were getting so, so bad and intrusive. (If it was this bad in high school how could she survive college?) Most of all, Rose was angry that they simply weren't there.

Rose was angry at God. If he was a kind, merciful God, how could He left this happen? How could He let half of all life disappear, to just die? Rose, in her anger and in her numbness, wondered if He really even existed. Rose wasn't too sure that He did.

Rose was angry at herself. She was angry that all she seemed to feel was anger or numbness. She was angry that she couldn't seem to get past it all. She was angry that she couldn't grow up and act mature. She was angry that she couldn't cope. She was angry that her mind was against her, poisoning every thought, and planting intrusive thoughts and growing them. She was angry she couldn't find help. She was angry she couldn't seem to find it in her to change and to grow and instead she just stagnates. She was frustrated that she couldn't changed. At her core, Rose was angry that she was so angry and it seemed to be all she could feel.

Rose looked at the punching bag in front of her. This was much more cathartic then she ever thought it could be. Honestly, it was better than therapy in some senses. But it still left an aching wound in her, struggling to heal. Punching something could only help so much.

Rose took a deep breath and stepped forward, getting in one last solid punch before stepping away. Rose sighed and began to unwrap her hands. Wiping away sweat from her forehead, Rose looked around the room and just nodded to herself defeatedly.

A few hours later, Rose found herself sitting on a comfy chair, listening to others talk. Rose sat curled up, listening to others as they talked and feeling like she was somewhere where people understood her. It was a simple support group meeting, but it helped, once she (mostly) got over her anxiety about speaking in front of people, being so personal, being judged, and wondering if others were struggling as bad as she. (It was a work in progress. Anxiety is a bitch.) Here, she could talk without being judged. It also helped that the place actually had comfortable furniture.

"Anyone else have something to say," asked James, the leader of the group, "Rose? You haven't talked in a while.

Rose shifted in her seat as everyone turned to look to her. She reached back to brush a piece of hair away and clutch her thermos tight in one hand.

"Sure," said Rose hesitantly after a pause, trying to gather her thoughts to explain, "It's been rough lately. And I mean real rough.

"I've been struggling with a lot of anger lately. A lot of anger. There is just so much. I feel angry all the time.

"I'm angry that my parents are gone. I'm angry that they were taken away. I'm angry that the world is moving on. I'm angry that I can't cope that I can't seem to move on.

"I'm angry with parents, despite how weird and messed up that sounds. I'm mad that they aren't here. I'm mad they are going to miss me graduating high school and my first day of college. I'm mad they weren't there to help me apply for college and get registered and that they weren't there to go through it with me.

"I'm angry I can't cope. I'm angry that I haven't managed to move on. I'm angry that I'm not getting better. I'm angry that I'm just stagnating. I'm just so ticked with myself that I can't seem to grow or move on. I'm just stuck, unable to go anywhere.

"I feel angry all the time. I seem like it's all I can feel now. I though the emptiness, the numbness, was bad, but this is so much worse. I'll feel so angry and that makes me feel… full, but then I feel so hollow when it goes away and I want that feeling back," Rose said, tears pricking in her eyes. She quickly reached up to rub them away and everyone nodded in sympathy, waiting patiently.

"I just don't know how to keep moving forward. I don't know how to change. I don't know what that will look like. Even one step seems like so much. I don't feel like I can change, because I don't know how. I don't know if I want to change, because change is so hard," Rose confessed, tears pricking steadily at her eyes. "I think that's it."

James nodded and began talking. Slowly, everyone turned away and began listening. However, Rose caught one of the other attendees', Amina (the closest thing she had to a friend), look. Rose nodded to ensure she was okay and Amina gave a tiny nod in return.

After the meeting, Rose found herself outside breathing in the cold air. Standing next to her was Amina, her pink hijab popping against sunset painted sky.

"I don't know how to get through this," Rose confessed, as they stood together, "I don't know how to keep going forward. How do you manage? You seem to be doing much better than the rest of us."

"Faith," Amina answered honestly. Rose turned to look to her.

"But how," asked Rose, desperately wanting instructions, for all of this to just happen instantly, "I can't turn to God because I'm not too sure I believe in Him anymore. How have you managed to keep faith, belief, Amina? Despite all of this?"

"I can't describe it," Amina said, "Faith isn't something easy. It isn't something someone can choose for you. It's just something… you feel. You have to find it yourself."

Rose nodded, not feeling too reassured or helped, but grateful that Amina was honest with her, not giving her platitudes. Talking to Amina always went either one of two ways. Helpful or frustrating. But, Amina was honest and that was what Rose wanted. She didn't want platitudes or reassurance. Rose tended to need bluntness and honesty.

"And you should know," Amina said, "I may seem that I'm doing better than the rest of you, but I'm still struggling."

Rose nodded before asking, concerned, "Are you okay?"

"I will be," said Amina, "We all will be."

The two young women stood shoulder to shoulder in the quiet, enjoying each others company.

"Thank you, Amina," said Rose after a while. Amina merely nodded.

"I should head home soon. My brother will be wondering where I am and I still have schoolwork. Do you want me to stay until your brother arrives," offered Rose.

"No," said Amina shaking her head, "I'll be fine. Go on ahead."

"You sure," Rose checked, unsure if Amina was allowed to be left alone or not. Amina nodded.

"I'll be fine. Go on ahead," said Amina. Rose nodded and smiled slightly.

"Okay. Goodbye Amina," said Rose.

"Goodbye Rose," said Amina, "Remember, you're welcome over for a meal if you ever want to. My mother would love to meet you."

Rose nodded, ignoring the pain that came with remembering Amina still had her mother at the least, and responded, "I'll think about it."

As Rose walked home, she wondered how she could move on when she wasn't sure how to or if she even wanted to. The anger, despite being painful and draining, was also empowering to Rose. She wasn't sure what she wanted.

* * *

_Depression_

* * *

William missed Patricia. He missed her so much. He wasn't even sure he could describe how much he missed her. Patricia was gone. She was gone and she was never coming back.

Now, there was so much they could never do together again. He and Patricia could never go on another walk together. They would never share another Hershey's bar together. They would never share another meal. They would never go to another child or grandchild's birthday together. They wouldn't see all of their grandchildren grow into young men and women. They wouldn't celebrate a grandchild's wedding together. They wouldn't welcome any great grandchildren into the family together. (Patricia had already missed welcoming Alexandra's twins.) There would never be another wedding anniversary.

One day and everything had changed

William relaxed back in his chair and sighed. He was so tired. Yet, no matter how much sleep he got he never felt rested, he would just want to go back to sleep. On most days, it was hard to even get out of bed.

Everything in his life felt like it was on a loop. Every single day, he would do the same thing with no variety. Each day blended into the next. Nothing changed. But at the end of the day, he would still feel so tired. Only was one day ever different from the rest.

Kiera will come and check in on him every week, coming over on Saturday and cooking a nice meal. She had yet to give up on helping him and it made William grateful, but also sad. Couldn't she see that she was just wasting her time trying to help him? She should be out there living her life, not caring for him. This was why William wanted to stay away from his family. He didn't want to drag them down with him into this dark hole.

William's family wasn't giving up though. Kiera had managed to whip most of them into action. Every day he would get a call from one of them to check up on him. So far, he managed to convince most of them he was alright. Diana, Alexandra, Melody, and Harrison seemed to be the only ones who suspected other wise. But, Diana and Alexandra were too busy with their own lives to investigate thoroughly. Harrison and Melody were beginning to tag team, though. William sighed. Elizabeth's husband and daughter were a force to be reckoned with when they teamed up to do something. Why could none of them understand they did not need to care for him? He was the father and grandfather. He cared for them, not the other way around.

William glanced to the side and saw his wife's chair and side table in the same place as it had always been. William had yet to pack up any of her stuff, much less move it despite the offers of his family to do. Even after two years, he wasn't quite ready to do so. Everything that was hers remained the same.

Patricia's side of the bed and her side table was the same. The lamp was in the same place. The reading glasses were safe in their case on top of the book Patricia had been reading. A glass for water next to it. A family photo as well. None of it had been disturbed except to be dusted. Patricia's side of the closet was the exact same as well. All of her clothes were left the exact way she preferred to be. The vanity she kept was similarly untouched except to be dusted.

Patricia's section of the bathroom was intact as well. All of her medications were lined up in the medicine cabinet. The make-up and perfumes she used most frequently were set up on the counter, ready for easy use. The lavender scented lotion she favored was nearby as well. Finally, her toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss sat on top shelf. Set up into the shower hanging from a shower bag was all of the products she used.

The reminders could either be painful or helpful. However, despite the pain it caused, William couldn't help but also find solace in them during some of the darkest times. William could spray a bit of her perfume and take in a breath of it. He could grab an article of her clothing and bury his face in it to breath in her scent. He could roll over to her side of the bed and imagine she was in his arms. But, afterwards, it hurt because she really wasn't there. The things she left behind were, but nothing else.

William sighed and pulled out the small black box he kept in his pocket. He flipped the lid open and looked at the ring lying innocently among the black satin. A gold band with minuscule diamonds placed all around the band. An eternity ring. This was supposed to be his gift to Patricia on their fiftieth wedding anniversary at the party. But now, she would never get it.

William let out a breath. He missed his wife so much. Everyday without her was painful. He never thought he would be without her this long. No. In the days of her fighting cancer he knew he may lose her and have to live life without her. But, as the years went by he thought he would be the first to go. If she went first, he thought he would follow shortly afterwards. William inhaled. Following after her sounded nice. That way they could be together again.

The doorbell rang, snapping William out of his thoughts. Then, a few moments later, knocking.

"Grandfather? It's me," he heard Kiera call, "I had a class canceled. I thought I'd stop by."

A moment, "Grandfather?"

William could hear Kiera unlocking the door with the key she owned. William sat in his chair, waiting as Kiera made her way into the house and to the living room. There was no use in trying to fight her, he wasn't even sure he could summon up the energy to do so.

"Grandfather," Kiera seemed to whisper, voice sounding shocked and concerned. William didn't know what to say to her.

Kiera walked over to her grandfather, steps cautious and slow. Her grandfather looked horrible. He seemed to have lost even more weight since she last saw him. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept in ages. Tear tracks ran down his face and his eyes looked bloodshot with dark circles underneath. His eyes were blank and unexpressive.

Kiera walked to her grandfather and crouched down. Gently, she laid a hand on his wrist. Up close, he looked even worse. His eyes weren't as blank as she originally thought. His eyes were instead filled with a sort of hollow sadness, an emptiness, and a quiet resignation. Kiera had seen a similar look in everyone who lost someone close to the Decimation and in those who struggled with depression.

"Grandfather," asked Kiera tentatively.

"I miss her," William said quietly, reflectively, "I miss her so much. "

Kiera stayed silent, unsure of what to say. That's when she finally noticed a ring box in her grandfather's hands. Kiera grabbed it and took it away slowly, her grandfather not resisting, to examine it. A simple, sleek ring box. A gold band with small diamonds going around the band rested among the black satin cushioning. An eternity band. They were a traditional gift for… the fiftieth wedding anniversary. Kiera restrained a sigh.

"Grandfather, why don't we talk," asked Kiera, unsure of what to say. Kiera was not… great at helping others with their emotions, despite always feeling the urge to help others.

"I want to be with her. I want to join her," William stated simply and Kiera bit her lip. This… this was worse than she thought.

* * *

_Denial and/or Isolation_

* * *

"No," shouted Evelyn.

Diana looked at her cousin and ward pleadingly. "Evie, please, listen, to me-"

"No," Evelyn shouted again. "You're forgetting them. You're forgetting they existed!"

"Evie," said Diana, crouching down to her cousin's height and grabbing her arms. "We are not forgetting them, but honey, we need to start planning. The stuff in the house isn't being used and it would be safer packaged and stored away somewhere."

"No," denied Evelyn. "You're just gonna give it away like Aunt Katherine and Christopher said."

Diana resisted the urge to swear out her aunt and cousin for suggesting to donate Aunt Caroline, Uncle David, and her cousin's things. They weren't going to get rid of it, but letting it stay in the house was inviting looters to come and get all the stuff they needed. It was a miracle that nothing had been stolen in two years. Besides, they weren't sure if in the end if the house would still be theirs (Evelyn and Xavier's) because legally the Decimation was causing migraines all around. But, Diana would not let Evelyn discover her family's house soon may not belong to her family in the next couple years.

"We are not giving anything away," said Diana, looking her cousin in her eyes, trying to reassure her. "We are going to pack it up in boxes and put it in storage. We just don't think it's safe there because there are a lot of people trying to steal from houses."

"I don't believe you," shouted Evelyn and Diana winced slightly at the loud noise. Evelyn tried to wretch herself away from her cousin, but Diana tightened her grip a bit.

"Evie, you need to listen to me. We are not forgetting them. We are not getting rid of their things. Evie, we -"

"Don't call me Evie," said Evelyn, her face scrunching up and tears forming in her eyes. "Only my dad can call me that. Only him."

Diana grit her teeth. All of a sudden a few weeks back, Evelyn had refused to let anyone call her Evie. Diana did not know why her cousin decided that, but Diana was getting more than a little aggravated by Evelyn throwing a fit everytime Diana slipped up and called her by her nickname. But, Diana was trying to be patient.

"Okay, Evelyn then," said Diana, taking a breath to calm herself. "I know it's hard, honey, but-"

"No," Evelyn shouted. "You think that they're not going to come back, but they will. They wouldn't have left me. They wouldn't have left Xavier. They'll come back. They're going to come back. You'll see. They're going to come back to me and Xavier. They would never leave us."

Diana sighed, frustration and plain exhaustion welling up in her. She wasn't sure if she could deal with this much longer. Diana was glad Evelyn had moved past her depression, but this was just as hard to deal with. How could she get Evelyn to understand her family would not be coming back?

"Evelyn-"

"Let me go," said Evelyn, trying to wiggle free from her cousin's grasp, tears threatening to fall freely. "Let me go."

"Okay," Diana said, letting go of her cousin.

Evelyn took running down the hall to her bedroom, crying, slamming the door behind her. "They'll come back", Diana heard muffled by the door.

Diana sighed and let herself fall fully on the floor. Diana could feel herself begin to cry and resisted the urge to scream. This was too much. She was not ready to deal with this. Diana ran her fingers through her hair and sighed.

In her bedroom, Evelyn threw herself down onto her bed. Her mom and dad will come back. So would Michael and Addy. They'd come back and then her family would see.

Evelyn grabbed her pillow and screamed into it. They _will_ come back. They would never leave her. Family stuck together. Why did no one else realize that?

Evelyn started crying softly. She wanted her parents. She wanted her mommy and daddy back. She wanted her siblings back. She was tired of being alone. Why did they leave? They said they would never leave her.

Evelyn heard the adults and other kids talk. They said everyone was just gone. Some even said they were… dead. But they couldn't be. They had just gone away for a little while. Why did know one believe her? Why did the older kids make fun of her for believing they would come back? They had to come back. They had too. They couldn't just leave her and Xavier alone.

Evelyn tightened her grip around her pillow. They would come back. Everyone would come back. Not just Mom and Dad and Michael and Addy. Everyone would. No one would just up and leave family. They would come back. All of them. Then, everyone would be happy again.

Evelyn lifted her head, sniffling, her nose running and her face red from crying. She looked at the small desk Diana had placed in her room. A notebook was on top. Miss Rachel said to write in it when she wanted to talk about something. Well, no one was listening to her so she'd try.

Evelyn walked over to her desk and sat down. She opened up her journal and picked up her pencil to begin writing. She had to tell why they had to come back. That they will come back. No one believed her, but they would soon.

"_No one listens to me. They will come back. They have to. They would never leave me, or Xavier."_

Evelyn continued writing, trying to explain things. Why was it so hard to explain it? She knew it had to happen, she just did, but she couldn't explain it.

Evelyn bit her lip and looked out the window. She could see Mrs. Almeda walking up to the building, carrying groceries. Mrs. Almeda was one of their neighbors and she often babysat Xavier and herself when Diana was busy. Evelyn liked her a lot.

Mrs. Almeda lived alone, her son and daughter having moved out already. She had two other children and a husband, but they were gone like Evelyn's parents and siblings. She also had a sister who was gone too, Viola. Evelyn was fairly sure she had a nephew too. Isaac was his name. Evelyn remembered Mrs. Almeda talking to him on the phone one time she babysat them. She had also saw his photo once.

Mrs. Almeda didn't see Isaac often, Evelyn remembered. He lived all the way in New York. Evelyn remembered Mrs. Almeda mentioning it once when she talked about her nephew to Diana, something about how the two of them might get along. Mrs. Almeda said family was important and you never gave up on family.

Mrs. Almeda looked sad, Evelyn thought. Maybe Evelyn should try and cheer her up? Explain how everyone had to come back. Surely she would understand of people. Mrs. Almeda knew that you never gave up on family.

A while later, Evelyn turned to her door when she heard a knock at her door. Then the voice of Diana.

"Evelyn? Can we talk?"

Evelyn bit her lip and looked at her journal. She wasn't sure what Diana wanted to talk about for sure, but Evelyn suspected it was about her family. Evelyn didn't want to hear it. Why couldn't anyone understand they would come back? They had to.

"In a little. I want to finish my journal."

A pause.

"Okay."

Evelyn looked back at her journal. Maybe if Diana read this she'd believe her. They will come back. She'll see.

* * *

_Depression_

* * *

"Hi Mom."

Isaac Jackson sat down on the bench in the park. A couple meter before him was the construction of the memorial wall for the dusted. The wall had only been in construction for a year and there was about another year left before it was done. However, Isaac had been told this was the rough area of where his mom's name would be.

The memorial wall was coming along quite nicely. The stone was polished and reflective, but he was unsure of what it was. Marble, maybe? Etched into the stones was the skyline of New York City. Then, names were engraved in slightly deeper to stand out against the skyline. It was looking quite nice. Isaac was just shocked everyone agreed on a design so quickly.

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in a while, but I've been a bit busy. I'm trying to get used to a new routine," Isaac began.

"I've been working at a mechanics shop for some months now. I no longer just do the odd jobs I can get. I have a paying job to go along with it.

"The pay is decent. Not great, but decent. Enough to live off of. I didn't think I'd get the job because I don't have a degree, but I did get it.

"Aiden has been helping me a lot. He was the one who pointed me to the job, first, actually. The gym he owns and all the people who go to the gym have been a big help to me. They are very supportive. I'm glad I decided to start going. Granted Sam was the one who made me go.

"I've gotten better at defending myself and working out, but I am still limited. My knee and leg still like to lock up if I move wrong. I also still can't do some things, but it is getting better. I'll never be back to how I was before, but I'm still getting better.

"Life overall is still all rather routine, despite the new job. The same things over and over. It's a bit tiring and boring at times, but it is familiar at the least.

"I am talking to Aunt Eloise more often, though. It's been pretty nice. We usually talk at least once a week. I know we weren't too close before, but lately we've been staying in touch more often.

"I think she is getting a bit lonely at home. Maria and Carlos have both moved out for now. They are living on campus for college. They don't stop by often or even call to talk.

"I think she is also still missing her other children, Luis and Carina. They disappeared two years as well. Uncle Marcello disappeared too. Aunt Eloise isn't use to being alone.

"I know she is enjoying babysitting her neighbor Diana's cousins who she has custody of. She doesn't do it often, but she enjoys it when she can. I think she misses a full house. She misses kids. The kids she babysits are Evelyn and Xavier, I think."

Isaac fiddled with his hand and continued to try and talk. He honestly didn't know what to talk about. Life was… quiet and routine. He ran on autopilot most of the time. He didn't feel much except this dull, persistent ache in him and it was not from his knee and leg.

"I don't know what else to talk about Mom. There isn't much to say. I'm not doing much. Life is just the same," said Isaac lamely.

Isaac didn't know what to say or what to talk about. This just felt so awkward. How could he tell his Mom about his life when he wasn't doing much? There just wasn't much to say.

"I'm sorry Mom," said Isaac, "I don't know what to say. I don't know if there is anything to say to you. I don't know if there is anything other than to say… goodbye," Isaac paused. Goodbye. That was… complicated.

"I don't know how to say goodbye," Isaac confessed quietly.

Goodbye. Isaac had said goodbye to his mother many times, but not _goodbye_. He had never said goodbye that was for good. He never said the farwell type of goodbye. Even after she had been dusted he had never really said- well, goodbye to her.

Lately, though, he had been confronted with the idea of having to. The world was beginning to say goodbye to the dusted. The memorials were being planned and built. The legalities surrounding the dusted were beginning to be discussed and figured out. Death certificates, reading of wills, all of it. The last few months, everyone was beginning to face the reality of what life without the dusted was like long term.

Isaac hadn't thought about it much, not until the rest of the world did. It just didn't seem important, or significant. Even after two years, his Mom still didn't seem… gone, at least not for good. But now, he was starting to seriously wonder if she was gone for good.

Whenever Isaac thought about it, he felt hollow or wounded. He had never thought of saying goodbye to his Mom. He never thought about what it would be like for the rest of his life without her being there. He hadn't even really accepted her being gone.

Ever since all of the talk about… everything over the last few months, Isaac hadn't felt the same. It was as if he was realizing everything all over again or in a deeper way. Everything was impacting him all over again. He was realizing that eventually, he would have to say goodbye and he would have to prepare to send her off. He would be leaving her in a sense. Isaac wasn't sure he was ready.

Isaac wasn't sure if he could describe what he was feeling or if he knew how he was feeling. All he could describe it as was as sadness. A deep, longing sadness.

Isaac felt empty. He wasn't used to the idea of being without his Mom. They had always been close, especially since dad died when he was little. Without her, part of him was gone. She had taught him everything he knew, even his knowledge about cars. She had always been there for him.

Isaac wanted to believe she would come back. That she could come back. But now, as time went by, as the world moved on, or tried to, he became pessimistic. She couldn't come back. But, he still couldn't find it in himself to say goodbye or even accept that.

Isaac felt guilty at the thought of accepting her death. How could he just accept it? He felt guilty that he never got to say something to her before she disappeared. That he didn't thank her or say he loved her.

Isaac was beginning to feel helpless without her. He wasn't sure he could do life without his Mom to guide him. Parents were supposed to be there for their kids, but she couldn't be there for him now. Isaac had relied on her advice and wisdom since he was little, what would he do without it?

Isaac wasn't sure if he could say goodbye. The idea of saying it made him feel sick. The idea of settling her affairs, having to make decisions, seemed so difficult. How could he do all of that?

Isaac sighed. He felt so tired. Sleep had not been easy for him. Neither had anything else. Work didn't seem appealing anyone. Meeting up with friends or co-workers after work wasn't appealing. Everything seemed to be dimming away. All he could seem to focus on was that he was going to have to say goodbye to his Mom one day soon, and he didn't want to say goodbye. He did not want to send her off.

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you Mom," said Isaac, "I'm not sure if I want to. I don't want you to be gone. There is so much I wish I could say to you. So much stuff I wish we could do together again. I don't think I can move on. I don't think I can let you go. I don't think I can say goodbye."

* * *

**Author's Note: **That's it for chapter four. Reviews and constructive criticism are very much welcomed, and encouraged. The next chapter will be up next Tuesday, I believe. I'm sorry in advance for any continuity errors that may appear or start appearing, I'm not great at math or keeping track of certain details.

One thing to add, I know she was barely there, but I hope I did Amina right. She is meant to be Muslim, but I know very little about the religion of Islam and the culture around it. I couldn't find the info I needed, but I hope I got her at least somewhat correct. If I got something wrong even in her short appearance let me know so I can try and fix it. Besides, I like learning about pretty much anything. I apologize in advance if I did, I did not mean to offend anyone.

That's all. I hope to see you next chapter.

-Miss Corrine

* * *

_Chapter published July 17th, 2019_


	5. Chapter 5: Stage Four

**Author's Note:** Here is chapter five.

The usual warnings apply. There will be depictions of grief and mourning. There will be depictions of mental illness and other mental health problems, but not as much as previous chapters (I think). There will be short discussions of religion and beliefs. Interracial and interfaith marriages and the prejudices/disapproval against them are also mentioned, but not discussed in depth. I believe that is all.

* * *

_**Stages**_

* * *

Chapter Five: Stage Four

* * *

2021

* * *

_Anger_

* * *

Evelyn screamed and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Evelyn locked the door and sunk down to the floor. She slammed her hands against the floor and hit her head against the back of the door in frustration and anger.

"Evelyn Charlotte!"

Evelyn could hear her cousin's voice ringing out in their apartment. She winced before steeling herself. She could hear Diana making her way to where the bathroom was in the apartment. Granted, it wasn't far away with how small the apartment is.

"Young lady, come out here right now," Diana said, voice stern and clear even when coming from the other side of a door. Evelyn could visualize her cousin putting her hands on her hips and straightening her posture.

"No," Evelyn said, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Evelyn," Diana snapped.

"No," shouted Evelyn, "I'm not coming out. You can't make me!"

Evelyn heard the doorknob jiggle as Diana tested to see if the door was locked. Evelyn smirked at Diana's sigh of frustration. Evelyn had learned to lock the door after Diana had opened it when she had come to hide here before. She was not making that mistake twice.

"Should've removed the lock," Evelyn heard Diana mutter.

"Evelyn can you come out and sit down so we can talk this out," Diana asked, attempting to sound and be calm.

"No," fired back Evelyn.

"Evelyn, please, what is-"

"Leave me alone," spat out Evelyn.

A sigh. Evelyn could almost see Diana putting a hand to her forehead as she shook her head.

"You want to be left alone?"

"Yes."

"You want to sit in there and throw a tantrum?"

Evelyn paused. Did Diana have to put it like that? It made her sound childish. But…

"Yes."

A pause. Evelyn couldn't hear anything from the other side of the door.

"Fine," said Diana. "But I want you out when you've cooled off and I expect you not to stay there long. The room is still a bathroom."

A pause. Evelyn could hear the floorboards creak as Diana shifted in place. Then, the sound of her retreating. "Pick your battles," muttered Diana, "Pick your battles."

Evelyn relaxed her body. She was so, so angry. She was angry that her family had left her. She was angry at her mom and her dad that they had left her. She was angry that Michael and Addy had left her. She was angry that she had to live with Diana. She wanted to live at home with her mom and dad and her siblings. She didn't want to live with Diana anymore.

Evelyn was so angry they had left her. Why did they have to leave her? She knew what had happened. The Decimation, the Snap. They had all turned to dust. The piles of dust she had found in her family's home was her family. They really were gone. Her family was dusted and they weren't coming back. They could never come back. Not even the Avengers could help them, save them.

Evelyn could feel the tears making their way down her cheeks. She was so, so angry. Why did they have to be taken? She couldn't even describe how she felt. It was all too confusing. She felt so much, but so… empty at the same time. Evelyn hugged her knees to her chest and quietly began to cry.

Evelyn wasn't sure how long had passed when she finally decided to leave the bathroom. The wood floors were making her butt hurt and it was getting cold in there. Evelyn raised herself up and unlocked the door. She would just make her way quietly to the bedroom and stay there. Maybe hide in the closet.

Evelyn made her way out of the bathroom and started down the hall to her bedroom. She, however, winced when she heard footsteps behind her and then her cousin's voice.

"Evelyn," stated Diana. "I would like to talk."

"Why," asked Evelyn skeptically as she turned around.

"To discuss your behavior," said Diana.

"What about it," asked Evelyn. Diana took a deep, steadying breath.

"We need to discuss why you have been acting out," Diana said calmly.

"Acting out," asked Evelyn innocently. Diana sighed.

"Evelyn, please, why don't we go to the living room to talk," asked Diana.

"No," stated Evelyn.

"No," queried Diana, eyebrow raising slightly.

"No," Evelyn affirmed with a nod.

"Why," asked Diana, still trying to act calm.

"I don't want to talk about it," said Evelyn as she crossed her arms in front of herself.

"Well, we'll need to talk sometime and we've been putting this off for a while. Waiting will only make it worse," said Diana gently, but still stern.

She gave Evelyn a stern look and crossed her arms over her chest. Evelyn didn't budge, not intimidated by her cousin. A standstill between the two began. Evelyn was the one to break it.

"Shut up," Evelyn suddenly shouted, anger surging through her, grateful to be let out.

"Excuse me," asked Diana, posture changing and voice becoming sharp at the sudden outburst.

"You are not my mom," Evelyn shouted, "You're not her so stop acting like it. Just leave me alone!"

"I know I am not your mother, but I am your guardian Evelyn," said Diana.

"I don't care," shouted Evelyn. "I'm tired of you acting like it. I'm tired of you controlling me. I'm tired of you not telling me the truth! I'm tired of your lies!"

"What are you talking about," asked Diana, confused.

"You never told me what happened to my parents or my siblings. You just said they were gone, but I know what happened. They turned to dust. The dust I found was my family. They're gone! They're gone and they are never coming back and you never bothered to tell me why! You never told me they were _dust_! I'm not a child! I deserved to know. Did you think I wouldn't find out? I'm not an idiot!"

"Evelyn," said Diana, voice calming, tone lowering, and posture relaxing as she tried to approach her cousin.

"No," shouted Evelyn.

She grabbed one of the picture frames from the wall and threw it in her cousin's direction. The picture missed hitting Diana and fell to the floor at her feet. The glass shattered, but didn't fly. Diana looked at her cousin in shock and worry as Evelyn looked shocked herself at what she just did.

The photo was one Diana had brought over from Caroline and David's house. Diana had though it would make the apartment feel more homey. The picture was taken around Christmas of 2017, just a few short months before the Decimation. The whole family was in their finest clothes with bright smiles as they stood before their Christmas tree. Evelyn looked at the broken frame in horror. The frame had fallen apart, glass was scattered, and the photo looked damaged.

It was then that Evelyn could feel the dam break. Evelyn fell to the ground and curled up, rocking back and forth as she cried. Diana hesitated before walking over to her cousin. She knelt down and cautiously wrapped her arms around Evelyn. Diana stiffened, but then relaxed when Evelyn clung to her tightly.

"I miss my mom and dad," said Evelyn between her sobs. "I miss them and Michael and Addy so much, but I'm so angry at them. Why did they have to leave? Why did they leave me? Why am I so angry at them? Why do I feel so angry?"

Diana remained silent, unsure of what to say. Instead, she just pulled her cousin closer to herself, holding her tight. Diana calmly ran her fingers through Evelyn's hair.

"Anger is an easy emotion. It is easier to express than sadness. It's easier to handle," said Diana. "But Evelyn, I can help you get through this. You have a lot of people who want to help you, but you have to be willing to talk and be open. It doesn't need to be now, but eventually, you are going to need to talk."

Evelyn said nothing, but kept crying. Diana sighed and just tried to move into a comfortable position. This was so hard. Even after three years, Diana had no idea of what she was doing. Diana honestly didn't know how her parents could handle raising her and her siblings. Evelyn burrowed her head against Diana's shoulder with another sob and Diana looked upwards, silently wondering why all of this had to happen.

"The picture," Evelyn stuttered out between cries.

"Shh," Diana said, "I can fix it. I just need glue for the frame and a sheet of glass to insert. The photo can be taped if needed."

"Can you fix everything else like that," asked Evelyn quietly. Diana winced.

"No honey. I'm afraid not. It doesn't work like that."

* * *

_Acceptance_

* * *

Rose laid down her bed and stared up at the ceiling, just thinking. Idly, she fiddled with the ring of her right hand. She had come to a conclusion, but a part of her was afraid of saying it out loud, out of fear it would make everything harder. Rose sighed. Should she keep it to herself or say it out loud?

"I've accepted it," Rose said, not to anyone in particular, but just to the air.

"I have accepted what has happened. I've accepted that my parents are gone. I'm not happy about it, but I have begun to accept it. Three years have passed without me accepting it. Each year more painful than the last, filled with false hope," Rose continued on, staring out the ceiling of her room absentmindedly.

"The world is moving. The memorials to unwinding the legalities behind the Decimation, all of it. We are moving at our own pace individually, all of us at our own stages. For me, I think I'm finally at acceptance. I thought by refusing to accept what has happened that they would come back, but they haven't. And it hurts just to keep holding on. It feels desperate, like I'm drowning and just holding onto any tether I can find.

"To be honest, I think part of me has always accepted what has happened. The rest of me just didn't want to admit it," Rose licked her lips.

"Logically, I know this is going to be hard. Even though I have accepted it doesn't mean it will be easy. I still will have an emotional reaction. I miss my parents and I always will, but trying to hold on to hope just feels like it is dragging me down further. I want to try and move on, to accept all of this.

"But emotionally," Rose said, pausing. She breathed out and closed her eyes, "I don't know what to expect. I feel it will be so very hard."

Rose stopped talking and let herself breath. Idly, she ran her knuckles up and down her sternum. She focused on the feeling and allowed her mind to wander as she tried to think through this all.

"I know I'm going to have moments of regression of not accepting. I know I'll still be angry and sad at times. That sometimes it will be hard to remember that they're gone. But, I don't want it to be harder than it has already been. I just want to be done with this all. I want to be able to move on. I want it to happen instantaneously.

"I just feel so trapped and confused. I'm not sure what to do. I feel like I have all pressing up against all around me and I'm blindfolded and I can only feel my way around, but I'm still trapped. I feel like I'm drowning with weights dragging me down in the water, but someone gave me an oxygen tank to torture me. I'm watching my surroundings for shadows, expecting something to attack me.

"I'm disorientated. Nothing like this has ever happened and everyone is just trying to carve their way themselves. We can't even really help each other because all of us are processing this and going through this in different ways.

"I'm trying to figure this out, but this is all so hard. It is so easy to fall and regress. But, what if I can't do it? What if I can't accept their deaths and begin to move on?

"I'm so scared. What if I can't do this? What if I can't move on? What if I can't survive? My fears and anxiety are paralyzing me.

"I know I need to take things one step at a time, but I like the big picture. I like planning ahead. Anything else seems wrong, makes me feel panicky. I want a plan, I want to know how things will end. But with this, I won't.

"Dad always told me I needed to learn to take things one step at a time. So did Mom. I guess that 's what I will have to do. But saying that is so much easier than doing it. What if I can't do it?"

Rose came to a halt. Shakingly, she tried to draw a deep breath, her chest feeling as if it was seizing. She was so scared. She knew her parents were gone, but saying so made it feel like a big part of her was gone. She wasn't sure if she could survive admitting and accepting they were gone. Saying she accepted they were gone was something much different from actually accepting they were gone and trying to genuinely move on from it.

"I'm gonna try and take it one step at a time. I'm gonna tread water. I'm not going to try and swim like an olympic swimmer. I'm just going to tread water until I can learn to swim. That'll be my plan, even if I'm not entirely certain that it is a good plan, or that I can do it" said Rose.

"But I am still so afraid. I just see so much uncertainty in my future and I don't like it. I don't know what acceptance is supposed to look like. I'm not sure if acceptance will be better than denial, but I want to move on. I am tired of holding on, but what is it like to let go?"

Rose paused and took a deep breath.

"I have missed my parents and I always will, but I need to move on. Holding on is just hurting me. I've accepted their deaths and I'm trying to learn to accept that they are gone for good. I'm just so scared because I don't know what moving on will look like or feel like and I'm scared it will be so much worse than what I am going through now. But, I need to let go."

Rose opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. She needed to move on. She was ready to try and move on. But, she was just so hesitant to because she didn't know what it would bring. She wasn't sure she could move on. Rose had never been good and accepting the unknown or not having a plan.

Rose let her eyes to roam across the ceiling, trying to find shapes among the textured patterns. She wasn't sure if her little speech to herself would help. She wasn't sure if she could actually do what she had talked about doing. She had already accepted her parents' death, but everything else? Rose wasn't too sure about. Accepting and moving forward with her life were two different things.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Rose whispered softly, closing her eyes and running her fingertips over the two bands suspended from a chain around her neck. Her mother's engagement ring and her father's anniversary wedding ring.

* * *

_Bargaining_

* * *

Patricia would've loved today, William thought. The sun was shining nice a bright, there was a nice cool breeze, and it wasn't too hot. Spring was finally kicking in. The flowers were in bloom and the trees had beautiful leaves. Families were in the park with children playing and dogs running about. The sounds filling the air. Yes, she would've loved it.

William walked through the park, a faint smile on his face. She would've loved today so much. William gazed about as he walked, almost feeling Patricia by his side.

William found his way to the small pond, or lake, in the center of the park where ducklings and goslings were roaming about. Patricia loved to feed the ducks and geese and watch them. William slowly eased himself down onto the bench and reached into his pocket to pull out the food for the ducks and geese.

"You would love today Patricia," William began, "It is so beautiful. The sun is nice and bright. It isn't too warm, there's a nice breeze. Families are out with children playing and dogs running about. The ducklings are out and some geese have even stayed behind from winter with their goslings. Everything is so nice. Spring has really started to go underway," William continued saying, smiling as the little ducklings waddled up to him and the mother duck watched him carefully.

"I miss you my darling. It's lonely without you. Kiera comes by a visits for lunch every Saturday. The rest of the family who are nearby come and visit often as well. But, I still feel so alone. Having the family visit is nice, but they are all busy with their own lives. It's hard to keep the family together when we live all over the west coast.

"You could do it, though. You could make sure the family stuck together, supported each other. You would keep them together. They have all formed their own groups with the children heading their own groups and even smaller groups within those," informed William.

"Charles and Katherine's families stick close together, if not in miles then by communication. Alexandra has her own family within that one with her twins and keeping in touch with her father-in-law, the poor man lost both of his son and his daughter, the only family he had left after his wife died. James' family is helping Elizabeth's. Diana is raising Caroline's remaining two children, forming their own little group," explained William.

"Everyone is so far away from each other Patricia. I wish you had been the one to live. You would have succeeded in keeping everyone together. I know they have someone to lean on, but they are all still struggling. Diana is struggling to raise Evelyn and Xavier while not taking their mother's place. Alexandra is struggling to parent her twins without Tommy by her side. Elizabeth's husband is struggling without her and so is Charles without Robin. You could've done so much better to help them all," said William, watching as a group of ducklings waddled after their mother.

"I wish I could take your place. I wish you could've lived. The family needs you more than they need me. You knew how to keep everyone together. They need you Patricia.

"I did nothing to keep the family together. In the beginning, yes, I tried, but I soon stopped. I got to wrapped up in my own grief and mourning. I thought that by staying away from them I wouldn't make everything worse. I thought that in my own grief I would drag them down with me as they were just beginning to figure out everything. I was wrong.

"Kiera and Melody and Harrison have been trying to drag me back into the family fold over the last year, but it feels like the damage is already done. Everything is fractured. I don't know what to do Patricia. I don't know if I can fix it," William confessed.

William sighed and watched as the ducks and geese went by. Life must be so simple to them. The sounds of the park filled his ears and he smiled bitter sweetly. Everything was how Patricia liked a day at the park, but she couldn't enjoy it.

"I hate that I survived and you didn't. I feel so guilty that I was the one who survived, by chance no less. I wish it was you. I wish it could've been you. I don't know why I had to be the one to survive. The family needs you more. They need you so much more," said William.

"If I could take your place I would. I wish I could do so. I wish we could switch spots. I would do anything for you to come back to the family. I have no use to the family, but you - you are the one they need. You have the touch they need. You can give them the help they need," William insisted.

"If only I had been the one taken. Maybe then our family would've stayed together. Maybe our family would be doing better. If only you had survived. Maybe everything would be different. Maybe then, everything would be alright for our family," William finished. "I want our family to be alright."

William sighed and leaned back against the bench. The day was nice. The sunshine, the breeze, the laughter, the families, the ducks, all of it. The today was near perfect. All the day needed was Patricia by his side to be perfect.

"I'd give anything for you to come back. I would give anything for our family to be alright. I would give anything for our family to be whole again," William said.

"I would do anything, give anything, for everything and everyone to be alright again."

* * *

_Depresion_

* * *

Deborah laid in bed, blankets nestled around her. Blankly, she stared at the air in front of her. She could see the little particles of dust swirling around in the air as sunlight streamed in from the curtains. The clock showed nine o'clock and Deborah should get out of bed, but she didn't feel she could. The energy it took to just get up and out of bed was enough to drain her, never mind trying to get dressed.

"Deborah?"

Deborah remained silent even at the sound of her husband's voice. She could hear the floorboards creak as he shifted in the doorway.

"I'm going out. There's shopping that needs to be done. Do you want to join me?"

"No," said Deborah.

"Are you sure? I was thinking we could stop by Anna's Cafe and have a late breakfast after we get done shopping," asked Robert, trying to persuade his wife.

"No thank you," replied Deborah as she pulled a blanket further up over herself, wincing at how heavy even her own arm felt.

Robert hesitated, torn between insisting to his wife that she join him and get out of the house or let her do what she wished, before saying, "Call if you need me."

"Mmhhm," replied Deborah, nodding her head barely.

Robert sighed and looked at his wife. He didn't know what to do to help her. She didn't even want his help. He thought after last year they had come to an understanding. They would help each other, talk to each other, and get through this together. Robert shook his head and left the doorway, making his way to get ready for the grocery trip. He didn't know what to do for his wife. Robert tried to encourage Deborah, nudge her to test her limits, but she never listened and he always felt bad when he tried to nudge her. Robert didn't know what to do.

Deborah sighed when she heard the front door shut a few minutes later. She rolled onto her back, joints aching and rebelling, and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn't find a way to describe to Robert what she was feeling. She felt sad. She felt heavy. She felt a constant ache within her. She wanted to do things, but she just couldn't summon the energy to do so. There was something just settled in her chest, stopping her.

Deborah glanced out the window. All she could make out was the bright sunshine and vague shadows. The idea of sunshine, warm, comforting sunshine, sounded wonderful. Deborah slowly eased herself up in bed. She took a breath and then swung her legs and feet out of bed. She took another breath, feeling so tired. The ache in her chest grew and she felt she could cry. Deborah closed her eyes and then pushed herself up. Slowly, she made her way to the chair by the window. Deborah eased herself down and smiled at the warm light.

The ache in her chest was still there. She felt so achingly sad. No. Melancholy was a better word. Deborah looked out the window as she watched people and cars go by. She let out a small smile when she saw Jonathan and Benjy, ready for a day out it seemed, walk out of the building and Soleil following not too far behind them, dressed in dance gear with her bag thrown over her shoulder. Deborah watched in surprise as Soleil and Jonathan stopped to greet each other and chat with Benjy interrupting to animatedly begin talking to Soleil. When had the three of them began to get to know each other? Or was it more, going by the awkward, shy smile Jonathan had as he talked to Soleil? Had she missed so much?

Deborah watched the world go by from her window for a while. She felt like a fish behind glass. Deborah sighed and raised her eyes higher. She could see part of the memorial (a recently added archway at the entrance of the park) from here. The new addition had been completed not too long ago and had been done so in record time. To be honest, Deborah wasn't sure why the archway was added, but it did look nice by itself. Deborah looked to her closet from the corner of her eye and then back to the window. She sighed. Should she?

Deborah wasn't sure how much time had passed when she reached the park where the memorial wall was. It had taken her some time to drag herself out of that chair and even more so to get ready and dressed. She had then slowly made her way out of the apartment (leaving a note for Robert) and the apartment building to the park. The entire process had already dragged so much out of her.

Deborah stood before the memorial wall. Raising her hand out, she traced three names. Maxwell Thomas Hart. Ezra Michael Hart. Elijah John Hart. Her boys. Deborah sighed.

Deborah took steps backward and sat down on a bench, placing her hands in her pockets. She still missed the boys. Nothing seemed right without them. Her shoulders sagged and she sunk against the bench. She was so tired. So very tired. The heaviness within her and around her weighed down on her.

Deborah sighed again. Nothing seemed or felt the same anymore. The ache in her that was present since the Decimation never went away and only seemed to grow more painful. Nothing was the same anymore.

Deborah looked around and saw all the people. Some were old like herself, some were young. There were families and couples and people by themselves visiting the walls. There was even a dog who was curled up before the memorial wall, looking sad. Everyone had lost someone.

"Excuse me ma'am, but may I sit here?"

Deborah turned to the side and looked up to see a young man standing. He appeared to be about twenty and seemed very nervous and hesitant. Deborah noticed a brace on his right knee as she ran her gaze over him.

"Of course. Feel free," Deborah said, sliding over a little to make room, almost wincing at how her energy drained even further.

"Thank you ma'am," said the young man.

The young man sat down and gazed at the wall. Deborah turned her gaze away from him and looked back at the wall. After a little while she noticed a vague whispering noise. Deborah looked out of the corner of her eye and saw the young man seemingly talking to himself, but Deborah recognized the behavior. He was talking to someone not there. She had seen many people do it when visiting the wall. She did it herself on occasion.

Curiosity started to get the better out of her. She couldn't help but wonder who he was talking to, who he was visiting. Self restraint could not stop Deborah and before she could stop herself she asked, "Who are you talking to?"

The boy, no, more like young man, looked at her, startled. He said, "Talking to? Oh. I didn't realize I was talking out loud. I'm sorry. I was hoping you wouldn't be able to hear me."

"It's alright dear," said Deborah, "Many people do it when visiting. Talking to those who they lost. Who are you visiting?"

Deborah wasn't sure why she was talking to this young man, but part of her felt he needed to talk. Or maybe she did. She wasn't sure why she felt that way, she just did.

"My mom," the young man admitted and he nodded in the direction of the wall. "Viola Aarons."

Deborah nodded, her heart twinging for the young man. How many children were there without parents because of the Decimaton? How many were alone?

Deborah responded, "I'm sorry about your mother."

The young man nodded. He fidgeted with his hands. He was obviously trying to decide how to respond or if at all.

"Uh. Thank you," he paused. "Who are you here for?"

"It's complicated," Deborah said with a sigh. She never knew how to explain her relationship to the Harts. Biologically they were not her family, but in her heart… well, they were hers. "They're family. Not biological, but my family nonetheless. The Harts. Maxwell, Ezra, and Elijah."

"I'm sorry for your loss," the young man returned. Deborah nodded and accepted it.

"Thank you," she said quietly. The ache in her chest throbbed dully, but seemed to loosen up briefly.

A few moments passed in silence and Deborah just breathed. The young man next to her shifted in his seat. Continuing to fidget, he glanced at her every so often.

"I miss her so much," the young man said suddenly. "It's been hard without her. I never imagined I'd just lose her like that."

"Neither did I," said Deborah, reflecting. She leaned back in her seat and looked up at the sky. "It was all so sudden. I wasn't even there. I didn't see it happen. I don't know if seeing it would've brought me closure or not and I'll never know."

Deborah shrugged and spread her hands out, palms up. She did wonder if seeing it happen would've helped or made everything worse.

"It wouldn't have," said the young man, voice firm.

Deborah turned to face him. He looked at her, demeanor serious, and shook his head. "I watched it happened and I still miss her so much. I don't think seeing it happens brings closure. Not in my case, at least. Everyone is different, right?"

"Right," Deborah said softly, dipping her head down in concession to the young man's point. She turned back to look at the wall.

"I just don't know how to go on without her because I'm still so willing to do anything to get her back," the young man said.

Deborah felt another twinge from her heart. She could remember when she felt that for her boys. Willing to trade anything, but a child should not have to feel that for a parent.

"I've been there," Deborah admitted. Then, she squared her shoulders and looked at the young man.

"I am Deborah," she said. The young man looked surprised, but nodded.

"I'm Isaac."

* * *

_Bargaining_

* * *

Isaac sat on the bench in the park in front of the memorial wondering how he got into this situation. He had never intended on making conversation when coming here. Yes, he'd talk to his mom, but never anyone else. He preferred to be alone. Yet, here he found himself, talking to an older woman, Deborah. No, not talking. It was more like spilling his guts. Isaac didn't know why he was doing it, honestly.

"-I just don't know how to let go," Isaac continued saying to her. "I am so willing to do anything to get her back. Anything. It scares me almost. I know she wouldn't want me to do anything that would put me at risk or even others at risk for her, but I want her back so badly.

"I am willing to do anything. The personification of evil itself could come to me and offer my mom back in exchange for something and I'd probably accept. I just want her back. I keep thinking of what I could do to get her back. The thoughts are intrusive and persistent and I've gotten so used to them.

"I know there is nothing I could do to get her back, but I want to try. I want to offer everything I have and some things I don't for her back. I know she wouldn't want me to do that, but I honestly don't really feel like I care. I should. I should honor her wishes, but I can't find it in myself to do so," finished Isaac.

Isaac watched as Deborah sat still, looking to be in deep thought. She pursed her lips. After a minute, she spoke.

"I was there not too long ago. About two years ago," confessed Deborah. "It's a feeling that doesn't go away quickly. I was willing to do anything to get those I lost back. Even after I got over the brunt of those feelings, it still came back every so often. Part of me asking what I'd be willing to do to get them back."

"What did you do to get over it," asked Isaac, curious.

"I didn't get over it," corrected Deborah. "I got through it and even then I regressed backwards often."

Deborah gave Isaac a stern look. She paused before lifting her shoulders upwards in the semblance of a thoughtful shrug.

"I don't think you can just get over it. It's not that simple. You have to get through it. All of it and it comes in stages. So when you think you have one done you have another one ahead of you. You have to live through it," she advised.

"What's helped you to live through it, the desire to do anything to get them back especially. I'm stuck there," admitted Isaac. He had managed to work through all the other stages so far, sometimes with help, but he felt stuck now. The other stages seemed easy compared to this one.

"I'm not really sure," admitted Deborah. "At the time it was also mixed with a lingering rage and anger. My first reaction is to say my faith helped, even if I was struggling with it a lot then. To be honest, I told God I'd have some choice words with him when I die if my boys did not come back to me. That must say something about my coping skills."

Deborah gave him a slightly conspiratory look and Isacc smiled before nodding. Deborah was frank and honest and Isaac loved that. But, he could see the sadness and tiredness in her. The same thing he dealt with most of last year.

"Is faith an option of to help you," asked Deborah, curious but not forceful or judgemental.

Isaac paused. He wasn't sure how to answer. It was just… hard to explain or define. Faith and religion was complicated for him.

Isaac himself wasn't really religious. His mom had been though. She had been very involved with her church. Dad, well, Dad had died when he was young so he couldn't really remember. Dad had been Jewish and Isaac could vaguely remember his Dad teaching him about Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Passover and a few of the other traditions, holidays, and beliefs of his faith. He remembered his paternal grandparents were always slightly resentful towards his mother, a Christian, for stealing away their good Jewish son.

But, Isaac himself had never really felt connected to religion. When he was young his parents raised him interfaith. After his Dad died, his Mom focused on teaching him about her beliefs and faith. Mom had also encouraged him to learn more about his father's faith from his family and if he felt more connected to it than her own faith she was fine with that. She wanted him to choose, not force anything on him.

However, none of it was appealing or had much of a connection. He hadn't gone to church or celebrated any form of religion in years. He didn't have anything against it, it just wasn't for him and his mom had accepted that. Nowadays, he tended to consider himself not atheist but more agnostic.

"No," replied Isaac finally after a few moments of reflection. "I don't think so."

Isaac could not use something or someone he was unsure of as a coping tool. Deborah nodded, no judgement anywhere present, just acceptance.

"I haven't been religious in awhile. I don't think I have ever been, honestly. Mom was involved in church a lot, but I don't know about my dad. He died when I was young. He was Jewish, that's all I know. I'm not sure if he was devout or a bit more… relaxed, I guess. I don't know how my parents made that work, two religions in one household, but they did. My dad's parents were still never too happy that he married my mom instead of a nice Jewish girl," Isaac explained.

Deborah laughed quietly and then said, "I can understand that. Neither my parents or my husband's ever accepted our marriage. In the beginning they made their disdain quite clear, but over time they quieted down, even if they still didn't agree with it."

"Why," asked Isaac, "Why didn't they approve."

"Interracial marriage was very controversial and not really accepted," Deborah stated simply, a touch of old bitterness in her tone, before continuing, "Say nothing of us being two different religions. "

"Have you made it work," asked Isaac, curious.

"Yes, but not without its ups and downs," said Deborah, looking thoughtful and a bit sad.

Isaac nodded. The two lapsed into a comfortable science. Isaac fidgeted with his hands as he gazed at the wall.

"I thought after I got through the depression, it would be easier. I'm not sure what part of this has been the worse. The constant anger or the constant feeling of being lost and hopeless. Or, willing to do anything to get them back even though you know you probably can't get them back," Isaac revealed, feeling pensive. All of the stages sucked in their own respects.

"I don't know," said Deborah. "I think what I'm dealing with now is one of the worst.

"I just feel tired all the time. For me, it is hard to get out of bed in the morning, to get dressed. All of it takes so much energy and I always feel a constant ache. Granted, that may just be old age for me. It's like there is nothing for me anymore. Or if there is, it is just very hard to get to it."

Isaac nodded, "I know that. Those were some of my symptoms from when I dealt with depression.

"I dealt with depression most of last year. Well, I'm not sure if I'd call it depression, but I've been told it was, even though it didn't feel that way to me. I honestly don't think depression always feels like depression, especially if you think you can't have it.

"It's difficult to go through. It just is. I know that for sure. There's a heaviness and a hopelessness. Doing it alone is even harder. But, with my experience, you always feel alone. You always feel cut off," revealed Isaac.

Deborah nodded. Isaac could see the sad look in her eyes. Isaac wondered if she had ever admitted, even to herself, that she may have depression. Isaac wondered if she wanted to be able to admit it.

"That sounds about right," Deborah confessed softly, "You have any advice for an old woman young man?"

Isaac shrugged and thought. He wasn't sure what to say. What could be helpful to her even in the slightest.

"One step at a time was what I've learned. Try not to think too far ahead and when you do, just take a breath. Break everything down into easier sections to chew. Take care of yourself, even if that means getting out of the bed to shower or change clothes when you don't want to. Otherwise, I'm not sure. For me, my battle was very personal with only a few people helping. That may be different for you, but I don't know. But, it's very much something that's different for everyone and the same at once. There are universal aspects to it, but also personal ones," Isaac tried to explain, but struggling.

Deborah nodded, seeming to understand. A comfortable silence lulled between the two once more. Neither made a move to end it.

"Thank you for your advice Isaac," Deborah said after a while with a smile.

"Thank you for listening Ms Deborah," returned Isaac, with a similar smile.

"I should be going," Deborah said. "My husband will wonder where I am and what I've gotten up to. I wasn't too willing to even get out of bed when he left for shopping this morning. He'll worry if I'm not back soon. Besides, I think I've hit my limit for today."

Isaac nodded, "I should to. I had some things I wanted to get done today."

"Well, goodbye Isaac."

"Goodbye Ms Deborah."

Isaac and Deborah both got up from the bench. The two looked at each and without saying a word, the two reached out for a hug. Isaac relished the feeling of the hug, even from a stranger. He didn't know her, but she felt safe.

"I hope you can find your way through this Ms Deborah."

"I hope you can too, Isaac."

* * *

**Author's Note:** That's all for chapter five. Once more, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and encouraged. I could use the feedback.

Thank you to Shannon K for your review. I'm glad you think it is good. I'll take it as a good thing that you think this story is emotional. I guess that means I'm doing something right.

That's all. Next chapter will be up Friday.

-Miss Corrine

* * *

_Chapter published July 23, 2019_


	6. Chapter 6: Stage Five

**Author's Note:** Here is chapter six.

The usual warnings apply. There will be depictions of grief and mourning processes. There will be depictions and descriptions of mental illness, including panic attacks. There will be discussion of religion and faith, but not too much. I think that is all.

* * *

_**Stages**_

* * *

Chapter Six: Stage Five

* * *

2022

* * *

_Acceptance_

* * *

"Bye kid!"

"Bye Aarons!"

"Bye Isaac!"

"See you later!"

"Good luck Isaac!"

Isaac smiled as he left work, waving goodbye to his coworkers. Today had been a good day. They had wrapped up three of the cars from their workloads today. The week was over and the weekend started now. _Finally._

Isaac shifted his work bag and made his way down the street dodging traffic. Walking the familiar and quick route, Isaac soon found himself at the park. Isaac followed the pathways and found his way to his regular spot. Isaac laid his bag down by the bench and stepped forward to the wall.

_Viola Elizabeth Aarons_

Isaac slowly traced his fingers over the name of his mother. The stone was cool despite the hot day. The engraving felt rough, but familiar.

"Hi Mom," said Isaac, settling down comfortably on the bench after stepping away.

"I'm sorry I haven't been back in a while. My boss has kept me busy. The shop's business has been booming and I'm getting more and more responsibility," explained Isaac apologetically.

"We had an old Camaro that came in that needed a lot of work. I got put in charge of fixing it up. Oh mom, you should've seen it. Even you would've loved it. I can't believe I got to work on it. It was a gorgeous piece of machinery.

"Work has been going pretty good. The salary is good as well since I got promoted. I don't even need to work side jobs anymore due to the raise. That means I can start working some projects around the apartment.

"I finally managed to clean up the apartment and got permission from the landlord to repaint the place. I don't know the color yet, but I'll take anything other than that horrible blue. It looks like something out of the eighties. I'm thinking beige, maybe, I'll have to ask Ms Deborah, she owns her own apartment building and then I think I may look for some newer furniture," Isaac said slightly excitedly. Finally, he'd be able to change up that drab apartment, make it feel more like a home. He bounced up and down on the bench slightly.

"I am meeting up with Deborah for lunch next week. She's the lady I meet here last year. We meet up every so often to talk. After running into each other multiple times when we come to visit here we decided to meet outside of here. She's real nice mom, the two of you would've gotten along, I know I say that a lot. She reminds me of Ms Tess, Grandma Estelle's neighbor."

Isaac stopped and fiddled with his high school ring, twisting it back and forth. He glanced down at the ground, thinking. He looked back up at his mom's name.

Isaac had been waiting to tell her about this for the longest time. He held back because he was afraid it wouldn't happen. But now, now he knew for sure.

"I have good news mom," said Isaac, "Really good news."

Isaac paused and sucked in a breath. He smiled widely and brightly. He bounced his leg up and down. Finally, he spit it out.

"Mom, I'm going to college. I got my acceptance letter. It's not a fancy college, community college actually, but it is still college," he said excitedly, practically bursting with excitement.

"I've been saving up my money from work, Mom. I have enough to pay tuition for the first year and Aunt Eloise sent me some cash for my birthday which can cover additional expenses. Even better, I have a scholarship, Mom.

"Mom, I can go to college," Isaac explained, excited beyond belief. "I can finally do what I promised I'd do."

Isaac leaned backwards and looked up at the sky. He placed his hands behind his head and grinned. He could do it. He could finally do it. He could go to college. After four years, close to the time when he should've graduated, he learned he could finally go to college.

"Everything is working out mom. Things are finally starting to look up," relief palpable in Isaac's voice.

Isaac sat quiet for a few moments, reflecting. Everything seemed to be settling down. Isaac felt like for once he was going to be okay.

"Mom, I'm doing fine. I am finally doing fine. You don't need to worry about me, wherever you are. I am doing fine. I am going to be fine," Isaac said. Isaac paused, debating what to say next.

"Mom, I'm finally managing to moving on. I'm finally managing to move on from your death," admitted Isaac before continuing, "I am still sad about you dying. I still miss you. I will always miss you. But mom, I think I've accepted it. It's hard to explain, but I just do. I can't explain how it happened, it just did. There's no way I can better describe it.

"Last year, I struggled with you being gone. I wanted to do anything to have you back. Sometimes, I still feel that way. But now, if an offer to have you come back came my way I think I could say no," Isaac said, feeling the slightest bit of guilt over that.

"Part of me feels bad that I can say that, but then I think about you. I think about what you would say. I wonder how you'd react to my decision. And then I realize you would probably agree with me. I'll never be sure if you would, but remembering you, I think you'd be fine with it.

"I'll miss you mom. I'll always miss you. I'll never stop missing you, but I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to accept it. And, I have. I can't keep holding on to you, thinking you will come back. I need to move on and grow."

Isaac finished saying. He took a deep breath. He felt calm. He felt at rest. He felt alright. He felt he could manage to do this. Isaac stood up and walked over to the memorial wall. Isaac reached out to trace his mother's name again. The stone was warm this time and Isaac let himself believe for the briefest moment that it was a sign from his Mom.

"I'm going to miss you mom, but don't worry. I'm going to take care of myself, I'm gonna be fine."

Isaac flattened his palm against her name. He took a deep breath and smiled. He looked upwards at the beautiful blue sky with soft white clouds intermingled.

"I'm going to be fine mom. For the first time in a long while, I'm going to be fine."

* * *

_Depression_

* * *

The morning began as it always did. The alarm went off, she hit snooze for five minutes. She laid in bed just staring, the alarm went off again, and she hit snooze again. She laid in bed continuing to just stare, the alarm went off again, and she'd finally turn it off. She would lie back down in bed for a moment more than get up. She didn't want to, but her mind, her anxiety, told her she needed to. She'd put on her glasses and take out her ear plugs. She'd go to the bathroom. She'd use the toilet, she'd brush her hair, she'd stare at herself in the mirror. She'd make her way back to her room and get dressed. Then, things changed up. For today, at least.

Rose sighed as she fixed her breakfast. The hotel wasn't too bad, but she hated staying in an unfamiliar room. The two full sized beds, the beige walls, the connected bathroom, the small kitchenette, all of it, reminded her she wasn't home. Unfortunately, she knew no one in New York City which left her stuck here in a hotel instead of staying with someone.

Rose made her way to the couch and sat down before turning on the TV. The news was as depressing as usual, but she kept it on. She was on the opposite side of the country, but everything was as bleak as usual. Some things were the same everywhere, no matter where you were, even if the bleakness and depression levels varied.

Rose shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but it was near impossible. The couch was too soft, not firm enough. Rose finished up her breakfast quickly (she never liked big breakfasts so it was easy to plow through breakfast) and headed to the small kitchenette to clean up.

Rose leaned against the counter in the small kitchenette. She sighed. She was so tired. She felt so heavy. An ache was settled in her chest. She felt like screaming or crying or both. Rose looked at her satchel bag on the little intable near the couch. Considering it, Rose wrestled with herself before she pushed herself away from the counter and walked over to the table, grabbing the bag and moving to the table in the kitchenette area.

Rose sat down at the table and opened the bag. She pulled out the journal (a new one she had already almost filled), a mechanical pencil, and an eraser. Opening the journal up, Rose jotted down the date and time. Then:

_I don't know how to describe this any of this. I woke up today and I feel no better. I feel tired and worn and sad. I have an ache in me that won't go away. I don't want to get up in the mornings or do anything, but my brain, my damn anxiety, tells me I have to otherwise I'm a failure, a disappointment, etc. My body is telling me one thing and my mind another._

_I can't handle this. I don't know how to handle this. Therapy isn't helping me. Not for my anxiety and not for this… depression. I don't like calling it that. I don't feel depressed. There are others who have depression that is worse than… this. I don't want to call what I have depression, but my therapist describes it as a depressive like episode, something like that. I can't remember her exact words. _

_I feel like my mind has built up an immunity to treatment. The therapist suggested I could start medication and she could point me in the direction of someone, but I'm not ready for meds. I know it helps some people, but I don't want to do it. Not yet._

_I am so tired. I feel like crying all the time, but I can't. I can't even cry anymore. It takes so much energy to do so. I can't even begin to describe this ache in my chest. It just throbs and throbs all the time. I feel like I'm missing my sternum and a constant ache has replaced it._

_I hate this. I hate feeling like this. It feels like I'm imploding and exploding at the same time and the two are at war with each other, trying to figure out who is going to win: implosion or explosion._

_It's been getting worse ever since finals started, even though they are over now. College is it's own special brand of weird, crazy, and hell is what I've learned so far. By the end of the year no one gives a shit about how you dress or how you act or how much caffeine you consume. _

_Everything has got even more worse by me coming to New York City. I'll be finishing community college next year. I should have finished this year, but I decided to spread it out some by doing schooling part time for a bit. I also got a part time job to help pay for things. I'll need a school to transfer to once I'm finished with community college, though, so I can get my bachelor's. I don't know if I want to stay near home and go to a college nearby or go somewhere new._

_I thought going to college away from home would be something exciting, but I'm regretting just leaving to check out colleges. It's all so unfamiliar and strange. I don't know if that is good for me or not. I know I need to try new things, but I am so terrified. I also don't know whether or not to start big or small._

_I can hear my mom in my head. She'd say I need to start small. Step by step. You need to be able to tread water first. I've been treading water forever and I'm getting tired. I can barely keep my head above water anymore. I'm sinking._

_I wish she was here. I wish dad was here. I wish they could be here with me. They would know what to say. Mom would at least. They'd tell me to take care of myself and they would be able to get me to do so._

_I thought I had moved on from their deaths. I thought I had accepted that they had died. But, I don't think I have. I knew it would be hard, or I had an idea that it would be hard, but I didn't think it would be this bad. I feel like I'm drowning. I don't know how to move onwards. I don't even feel like I got to say goodbye. Not a true goodbye._

_I miss them so much. I keep thinking about them. I keep thinking about how much of a horrible daughter I was._

_I am not what they signed up for. I'm fairly sure when they decided to have kids they weren't expecting to have a daughter with generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder, and tendencies associated with other disorders. I'm sure they weren't expecting the panic attacks, excessive anxiety, and the cost of therapy. Nor were they expecting the bursts of anger which were, and still are in some respects, the only way I could express emotion. I was such a burden._

_I just feel so sorry that they had to deal with me. I couldn't have been what they were expecting. They had my brother who was perfect on almost all accounts and then there was me._

_I feel bad that I didn't appreciate them. That I didn't tell them how much I loved them. How much I appreciated them being there for me. How I'm sorry for being such a difficult person to deal with. How I wish I could be better for them. There is so much I want to be able to tell them._

Rose put her pencil down and sucked in a breath. She was crying. Damn, she was crying. Rose pushed her chair away from the table and bent over, clutching herself and rocking back and forth as she cried. She dug her nails into her skin, felt how the chair felt against her, how she felt so hot, how her tears were sticking to her skin, the taste of salt, the tell tale feeling of her nose draining, all of it. She could feel it all.

Rose couldn't describe it, not accurately. She felt longing. She felt loss. She felt sad. Intense sadness. Rose tried to choke back a sob, but she couldn't.

Rose wanted her parents. She wanted them with her. She wanted them to just sit by her despite the fact she hated people seeing her crying. She wanted them with her. She wanted to smell her mother's lotion, her perfume, the faint scent of her shampoo. Rose wanted to feel the tickle of her mother's hair as she hugged her. Rose wanted to smell her father's aftershave and cologne. She wanted to hear his voice as he tried to get her to walk through the brunt of her emotions during a panic attack or just when she was upset or overwhelmed.

Rose shakily picked up her pencil as she cried. And wrote:

_I miss them so much. I want them back. I want them back. I can't stop crying. I want my parents. I want my parents. Why do I have to be alone? Why can't I stop crying? Why won't this ache go away? I want my mama and papa. I want to be safe and loved._

Rose sat back in her chair and cried. She dug her nails into her skin, trying to focus on that one sensation instead of all the others she was feeling. But, it did not help. The crushing feeling wouldn't stop. The constricting, tightening feeling wouldn't stop. The crying wouldn't end. She was all alone. Why did she have to be alone?

_I'm drowning. I'm drowning. I'm drowning._

_I want to feel loved again. I want to feel whole again. I want to feel okay. I want to be okay. I want to be functional. I want to be loved. I don't want to be alone anymore._

Rose tried to suck in a deep breath as she wrote, but instead it turned to hyperventilating. She couldn't breathe right.

_Help. I need help. Someone help me. _

Rose paused briefly, considering what she was about to write. Then, she plowed on.

_God, help me._

An hour later Rose found herself standing in front of a cathedral. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She hadn't been to a church or cathedral in years. The cathedral loomed over him, imposing and powerful, but also solid and steady. She wanted to be steady.

Rose looked down at her clothes. Loose black pants, an oversized white tee shirt that hung loosely on her, a lightweight pink hoodie, and her satchel thrown over her shoulder. These weren't church clothes, but they would have to do.

Rose took a deep breath, her chest still shaky, all of her still shaky, from her breakdown earlier. One was going to happen again soon going by how she was feeling. Rose grit her teeth. Not now. And with one step, Rose began her way to the cathedral.

* * *

_Acceptance_

* * *

"Hello boys."

Deborah sat down on the bench in front of the memorial, her purse beside her. Today was a rather nice day. The sky was a clear blue and the sun shone brightly and warmly. The park was lively, spring giving away to summer. The grass and the trees were green. The flowers were blooming a multitude of colors. Families were out and about, enjoying the day. Everything felt so vibrant. But, here it was just a little muted.

"I'm sorry I haven't been by sooner, but the school year just ended so you boys know what that means: wrapping up everything and saying goodbye to my students," began Deborah, clasping her hands together as she gazed at the memorial wall, the reflective surface allowing her to see an outline of herself.

"You boys also know what ends of the school year means," hinted Deborah, "Cleaning out the apartment building. The time has come.

"We've been busy over at the apartment building cleaning everything. This is the first time since, well, since, you know, that we've done a full on, whole building clean. There's now a lot more to get done.

"The floors are getting swept, cleaned, and waxed. The walls are getting a much needed new coat of paint. We're getting all the inspections done. Robert has called maintenance guys to come out and fix everything up that needs to be fixed," listed Deborah, ticking a finger with every item.

"Everyone is cleaning out their own apartments as well. We've… we've also been airing out and cleaning the apartments that belonged to… to the dusted. To you. With all the new laws being passed, well… you have all been pronounced legally dead and a lot of the ramifications are beginning to kick in. The reading of wills and distribution of assets type thing.

"The apartments are going to stay the way they are for a while. Until Robert, myself, and anyone else involved can sort it all out, but, well, we want to keep the apartments the way they are for a while. We don't need the rent money, it's working out just fine without it."

Deborah paused. She took a breath and closed her eyes, just feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin for a minute. She opened her eyes and looked at the memorial wall.

"It's been hard going through the old apartments. Seeing everyone's stuff. But, cathartic at the same time in a way. We miss you, we all do, but seeing the things and cleaning everything up, even packing some stuff up, has helped. It has helped say goodbye," admitted Deborah.

Deborah paused once more and took a breath. She twisted one of her rings and pursed her lips. She looked at the memorial wall and imagined for a moment she could she her boys' outline on the surface.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but… I'm ready to say goodbye to you," Deborah admitted.

"I accepted your deaths not to long ago, but this, this is my formal goodbye. I'm ready to let you go. I'm still going to miss you and wish you were here, but I no longer feel the need to cling to you. I'll still talk to you and come to visit, but… I'm ready to say goodbye. I'm ready to let you go.

"I never thought I'd be ready to let you go, but… this last year has been full of healing for me. I've allowed myself to heal. I let myself healed.

"It hasn't been easy. I've tried to close myself often, but therapy has helped. I tried to resist. Sometimes I even opened up old wounds. I would cling to the belief you could come back out of desperation more than once. However, I've gotten better. I kept working through it. I've learned to accept. Therapy for myself and Robert has helped with that a lot.

"And now I'm ready to let you go and say goodbye. I feel guilty about saying that. It makes me seem like I'm forgetting you. I'm not forgetting you, I'm just not clinging to you in a rather unhealthy manner. I love you, but the last few years haven't been good in terms of me coping healthily. I will always miss you, but now I'm doing it more healthily, more respectfully in a sense. I will always love and miss you, though."

Deborah took a deep breath. Deborah stood up from the bench, her backside already slightly numb, and walked up the wall, her legs shaking slightly. Deborah traced the names of each of the boys in slow, deliberate movements. She was aware of how the engravings felt underneath her fingertips and how she had committed the feeling to memory. Then, she laid her hand over the names gently, imagining for a moment she was holding their hands.

"Goodbye boys. Goodbye Max. Goodbye Ezra. Goodbye Elijah. I love you and I miss you," Deborah said softly and gently.

Deborah stepped back and let her gaze linger over the wall shortly. She still had one last thing to do.

A while later, Deborah found herself getting ready to leave the cathedral, having done what she came to do: light a candle for each of her boys. A short prayer for each followed each one, Deborah pouring all of her heart into the prayers.

Deborah was making her way down the aisle of the inner sanctuary away from the stand with the candles when she saw a young woman. She was towards the back of the church, her head bowed down as she knelt and prayed. As Deborah approached closer, she could hear the sound of the young woman crying.

Deborah felt a pull towards the young woman. The urge to sit down by her and talk. But, Deborah knew she herself would be uncomfortable if someone had done that when she came here to cry and talk before. Though, the pull was strong. Something inside of her urging to sit by the young woman. A similar feeling to the one last year when she and Isaac met.

Deborah stopped at the pew the young woman was in. Deborah bit her lip and looked at the young woman. She hadn't seemed to realize Deborah's presence. But, Deborah noticed her and could hear the cries and the low whisperings coming from her clearer and her heart twinged.

Deborah took a breath and steeled herself. She couldn't resist the urge to reach out to the young woman. Love your neighbor, Deborah thought.

Deborah entered the pew and made her way to the young woman, sitting just a few feet from her. Deborah sat and looked at the young woman. After a little bit, the girl raised her head and turned her head lightly to look at her. She gave Deborah a weary, cautious look before turning away and bowing her head back down, her cries quieter.

Deborah pursed her lips. The young woman seemed so… wounded. Deborah thought of Isaac briefly and her meeting him at the memorial, but this was different. Deborah… Deborah didn't know what to say. The young woman when she looked at her had seemed so weary and so wounded if the tears in her eyes and on her face mixed with the look a hurt in her eyes was anything to go by.

"It's alright to let it out," Deborah said finally, giving the young woman a soft look, "It's safe here."

The young woman seemed to tense before turning to give a side look. It was disbelieving and incredulous, almost offended. She shook turned away again.

"Are you okay dear," Deborah asked gently, something inside her urging her to be patient and to stay put.

The young woman turned and gave her another side look, one that said "leave me alone". She seemed like she wanted to be alone, but something inside Deborah…

"I don't know why I'm talking to you," Deborah admitted to ease the tension and uncomfortability, "I just felt a pull towards you."

"I just want to be alone right now. Can you please leave? I like my privacy," the young woman said tiredly, voice sounding like she didn't want to fight. Her shoulders slumped and all the energy in her seemed to drain away after saying those few sentences, as if they took everything out of her.

Deborah watched as the young woman seemed to crumple in on herself, tired and worn. Deborah pursed her lips before opening her purse and beginning to search through her bag. Finding what she wanted, Deborah offered a kleenex to the young woman. The young woman looked at her warily, but took the kleenex and wiped away her tears.

"I'm so tired," the young woman said suddenly, staring towards the altar, "I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of not getting better. I feel so out of place everywhere. Even here. I haven't been to church in years."

"Do you want to talk," asked Deborah. The young woman gave her a look that Deborah couldn't read.

"You know, earlier today I wanted someone to care about me. I mainly wanted my parents to come back from The Snap and care about me, listen to me, help me. I didn't think it would be a stranger," the young woman said.

"Is that a yes," asked Deborah. The young woman tilted her head.

"I don't know," she said.

"I'm Deborah," offered Deborah.

"I'm Rose," said the young woman.

* * *

_Anger_

* * *

"Time to move on"

William decided he hated that phrases and any variant of it. Move on. How was he supposed to move on? How was he supposed to move on when he had lost the love of his life? Did they think they could just forget her?

William hated the world. He was angry at it. The world was telling him to move on when he was still trying to mourn his wife. How was he supposed to just move on?

William couldn't just pack up all her things and put them away like she never existed. He couldn't donate them or give them away. He couldn't even given them to family. He wanted them. If he kept her things maybe he would stop forgetting all the little things about her.

William was forgetting her and he hated it. He wasn't even forgetting just his wife. He was forgetting things about his daughters Elizabeth and Caroline, he was forgetting things about the grandchildren he had lost. He was forgetting it. And he was angry at himself that he was.

William was forgetting the sound of his wife's laugh. The sound of her singing. He was forgetting what the sound of his grandchildren running about his house was like. The feeling of Michael's hair when he ruffled it or the feel of Addy's when he braided it for her. He couldn't remember the scent of the perfume Elizabeth always wore. He could barely remember Caroline's laugh. He couldn't remember the sound of Jess's voice. He only vaguely remembered the animated look Lark would get when she talked about something she was passionate about. He could barely recall the way his grandson-in-law, Tommy, would gaze at his wife Alexandra from across the room and how she would smile and blush when she noticed. Everything was fading.

All of it was slowly slipping away, piece by piece. William feared when he would no longer remember any of it. Whether it be due to time, to age, or something else.

How could he move on when he was so afraid of forgetting?

William was angry that others were moving on when he was struggling just to remember. The world kept going and moving, forgetting about everyone who was lost. The memorials that were being finished were only for placification. The world didn't care about those who were lost. Not when they were deciding to declare everyone legally dead. Not when it was taking measures to ensure that in all legal ways that they were gone.

William was angry at his family too. They were moving on. Katherine and James and Kiera were inquiering when he would start packing up Patricia's items, when the will would be executed. William had never been so angry. Just because the courts declared her dead didn't mean they could get her stuff. Katherine had said it was time to give Patricia's items to those she had willed it, but William did not want to. It was hers and hers alone.

Today, Kiera had even come over to bring him to a picnic at the memorial in their area where the family would be. She said all of the family would be going to the memorials in their area to pay their respects. They would be doing it at the same time, in a semblance of togetherness. Together, they would pay their respects and remember. William had, quite angrily, informed her of what he thought of that practice.

William had just begun to start repairing his relationships with his family when this all began. Why did no one understand? Why would no one listen? How could they just disregard their family? Forget them?

All he felt was anger. He was angry that the world was moving on. He was angry that his family was moving on. Most of all, he was angry that Patricia was gone, that she had left him all alone.

William was so angry at Patricia. She had left him all alone. She left him with nothing but pain. She had left him.

William was so angry. Everyone had left. Everyone was gone. They had left them with nothing but pain, and bittersweet memories. They were gone. How could they just leave? They may not have had a choice, but they had still left.

William knew she had no choice. She did not decide to be apart of the one-half who was dusted. She did not decide to leave him the way she did, so abruptly and suddenly. She had no choice.

However, it did not stop William from remembering how she looked when she disappeared. How she had stared at him directly in the eyes, told him she loved him, and kept holding his hand even as she turned to dust. Those moments were burned into his memory. As he fell asleep he could still see it. When he dreamed, the memory turned into her accusing him, raging at him, and morphing into something worse than what had already happened. Sometimes, Patricia was joined by other members of the family: Jess, Michael, Addy, Caroline, Elizabeth, Lark, all of them.

William was angry at his wife, but he was also angry with himself. He was angry he hadn't tried to do something to stop what was happening. He was angry he hadn't said something to her. All he had done was staring at her in shock. William was angry he hadn't done something.

William should've done something. William should've tried something. There had to have been something he could've done. He should've said goodbye or that he loved her. There was so much he should've done. William was angry at himself that he had done nothing.

William was angry at the Avengers. That they couldn't stop what had happened. That they couldn't reverse it. They were supposed to be Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

William was so angry. The anger was indescribable. A jumbled, painful, pulsing sensation. It was so tiring. It took and took and took. All William wanted was something back.

William was angry and he didn't know what to do. Move on was what he though. But then he remembers. Moving on was why he was angry. What was he to do? He was stuck, unable to go anywhere.

* * *

_Acceptance_

* * *

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Evelyn looked up at Diana and nodded to reassure her. Diana smiled and nodded. Diana reached inside the trunk of her car and grabbed the rest of their stuff before shutting the trunk closed.

"We have everything," Diana questioned, looking to Evelyn.

"Yes Diana," said Evelyn.

"Okay. Let's get going. Xavier, hold your sisters hand. I'll carry the stuff," instructed Diana, hauling a bag over her shoulder and picking up the picnic basket. "Let's go."

The small family made their way from the parking lot to the park. Evelyn looked upwards as they approached the entrance, a large archway that looked like something out of Diana's books on Ancient Greece marking the entrance. It was rather pretty.

As the small group walked through the park, Evelyn found herself looking around. It was a beautiful day. The sun was nice and bright. The sky was Evelyn's favorite shade of blue, filled with fluffy clouds. The flowers and all the plants were in bloom. Evelyn smiled. The park looked so pretty.

Evelyn followed Diana, guiding Xavier along, as they weaved through the park. They were supposed to meet the members of the family who lived in the area here today. Diana's parents and siblings had already texted saying they had arrived at the park and set up near the center.

"Diana!"

Diana looked in the direction of the voice calling her and so did Evelyn. She could see a man waving a hand, gesturing over. Diana shifted the bag on her shoulder and waved back.

"Come on Evelyn, Xavier," said Diana, nodding her head in the direction they were heading.

The trio changed course and went over to the small group of people waiting. The closer they got Evelyn could better make out the group. A plush blanket and a few camping chairs were set up in the middle of the lush grass. A picnic basket was already sitting on top of the blanket. Sitting in the camping chairs were Uncle James and Aunt Desiree. Renee and Raphael were sitting on the blanket, spread out.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad. Renee, Raphael," said Diana as they came closer to the group.

"Hi Uncle James, hi Aunt Desiree," said Evelyn, nudging Xavier gently. Xavier smiled shyly and waved.

Uncle James, Aunt Desiree, Renee, and Raphael all smiled and began greeting the trio. As everyone exchanged greetings and hugs, the trio began setting up next to the others. Soon, everyone dissolved into light chatting.

"Evie, you look so nice. I love your braids. Don't tell me Diana did them. She always knotted up my hair," said Renee, admiring her cousin's braids. A complicated braid style Renee didn't recognize mixed with flowers. Evelyn smiled and blushed slightly.

"Di did my hair. She has gotten real good," praised Evelyn. Diana looked over at her, surprised, but smiled. "She still pulls my hair hard though."

Renee laughed as Diana winced. Renee smirked at wagged her index finger at her older sister, clicking her tongue.

"You are still bad," accused Renee.

"I've gotten better," defended Diana as the sisters dissolved into bickering.

"Our sis been treating you good," asked Raphael, stretching out like a cat in the sun as he looked at his younger cousin, ignoring the bickering of his sisters.

"Of course," said Evelyn.

Diana stopped bickering with her sister for a moment to look at Evelyn surprised. Evelyn merely smiled and nodded. Diana was getting much better at being a guardian and Evelyn herself was beginning to learn how to understand Diana was still trying to get use to parent two kids when she was only in her early twenties herself. Evelyn also was beginning to understand that Diana was not trying to take her Mom's place.

The family continued chatting, waiting for the others to arrive, and Evelyn found herself relaxing. She liked being around her family. She enjoyed the feeling a love and family. She loved the togetherness. She loved the caring and joy and happiness that came with family.

A short while later, Evelyn found herself in the center of the park where the memorial stood. The memorial here was a unique one according to Diana. Nowhere else in the world had one quite like it yet.

The center of the memorial was a single large sculpted tree. Pieces of a silver colored metal twisted together tightly to form the trunk. The leaves looked like they were made of gold. On each leaf was the name of one of the dusted. Sculpted birds sat in the trees and around the trees, the names of the dusted across their wings. Around the tree and the surrounding areas were metal flowers made of different metals, the names of the dusted across the stems. In front of the memorial, a plaque on a tall podium explaining the memorial and what it represented.

Evelyn stood in front of a cluster of flowers. Evelyn looked over shoulder at Diana who was standing a few feet behind her.

"Can I be alone for just a little bit," asked Evelyn. Diana hesitated, about to protest, but deflated.

"Okay. Just for a little bit. Remember, anyone tries anything, scream loud and long and do anything to get away," instructed Diana, "I'm gonna be a little bit a way. I have some people to visit as well. Stay put and I'll come get you in a little bit. Be mindful of your surroundings."

Evelyn nodded and Diana left her. Evelyn sat down on the grass and crossed her legs. Slowly, she began searching the flowers for the names she wanted. After a few minutes, she found the names she wanted, all clustered together. Evelyn bit her lip and cautiously ran her fingers over the names.

_David Paul Montgomery_

_Caroline Sara Montgomery_

_Michael William Montgomery_

_Adeline Fay Montgomery_

"Hi Mom, Dad," said Evelyn, "Hi Michael, Addy."

Evelyn took in a deep breath. She gripped her legs and bit her lip thoughtfully. Where should she start?

"I'm sorry I haven't come to visit sooner, but I've been too scared to. I know the memorial opened on the anniversary, but I just wasn't ready. Diana said that is okay, but I still feel bad," began Evelyn, admitting what had been bothering her for the last few months.

"I just… I wasn't sure if I could do this. I wasn't sure if I was ready. I can't really explain it. I… I just didn't want to come. I didn't want to see all of your names here," Evelyn struggled to explain.

She had felt guilty when she didn't go to the opening of the memorial, but she just couldn't go. Diana had understood, but Evelyn couldn't understand it herself. She just felt so bad.

"I still miss you. I still feel sad at times. I feel really sad on your guy's birthdays and at Christmas. It still feels weird not having you here. I love cousin Diana, but she is not the same," said Evelyn, reaching a hand up to fiddle with the braid Diana had done for her this morning.

"I'm having trouble remembering you guys," admitted Evelyn, feeling ashamed, "The memories, they're fading. Diana said that is normal, but I don't want it to be. I don't want to forget you all. I still have all the pictures and videos and I can still hear stories about you from the rest of the family, but it isn't the same.

"Xavier doesn't even remember you. He was so little when it happened. He still calls Diana mom occasionally."

Evelyn paused. She fiddled with her hands and began looking around her. There weren't too many people at the memorial, just a few. An older couple, a teenager, a few kids about her age, and someone around Diana's age. Evelyn could see Diana a little ways a way kneeling in the grass, looking at a flower herself and seemingly talking to herself.

"I still get mad at Diana, at you, at everyone, that you guys are gone. I get real sad too. I miss you so much and hate that you're gone. It's getting better, though. Diana has been helping and so has my therapist. I'm doing better," assured Evelyn eagerly, not wanting her parents to worry. She caused them enough worry over the past few years, probably.

"Mom, Dad, Michael, Addy, if you are worried about me wherever you are, please don't don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. I will be fine.

"I'm going to be fine. I have Diana, my therapist, and the whole family to help me. Besides, I know you didn't leave me on purpose. So, please rest if you haven't been able to. I know I haven't given you much reason to in the last few years, but I'm fine now. I'm alright. I've… I've accepted this all. I can't do anything to change it."

Evelyn paused. She bit her lip and quirked her head to the side.

"You may want to check on Grandpa, though. I know I'm not supposed to hear what they are saying, but everyone seems so worried about him. Maybe you can tell Grandma to watch over him?"

Evelyn fell silent. For a little while, she sat in quiet, just thinking.

"I think that is all. Goodbye."

Evelyn got up and went over to Diana. Diana was silent as Evelyn approached, but Evelyn could see she was sad. She was slouching and Evelyn could see the faint tears on her face. So, Evelyn sat down by Diana and hugged her cousin.

"Thank you for everything," Evelyn told Diana.

"You're welcome," Diana' voice sounded bright, but a little tired.

Evelyn soon found herself back with the rest of her family. She relaxed on the blanket and leaned against Renee who wrapped an arm around her. There was family speaking via speakerphone or Skye from other parts of the country. Evelyn smiled contently as she listened to everyone talking. The family wasn't quite the same with everyone gone, but it was still her family, just a little different.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is all for chapter six. Once again, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and encouraged. I know I say this every chapter, but I could really use the feedback, even if it is something short. Thank you to those who have supported me this far.

The next chapter will be the final chapter. It will be posted sometime next week. I'll be busyTuesday and Wednesday so it may not be uploaded until Thursday. If I can get it done earlier, it may go up on Monday. Just keep an eye out.

There may be a few errors in here math wise. Just ignore them or if it is horribly wrong point them out to me and I'll try to fix them. Math isn't my strongest subject, but I tried my hardest to get everything aligned. A few names may also be different on accident. A couple background characters had their names changed repeatedly. Hopefully I got them all.

That's all. See you for the last chapter sometime next week.

-Miss Corrine

* * *

_Chapter published July 26th, 2019._

_Minor edits August 1st, 2019._


	7. Chapter 7: The Reversal

**Author's Note:** Here it is.

The usual warnings apply. References to grief and mourning. Some mild language. Depictions and discussion of mental illness. I think that is all.

* * *

**Stages**

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Reversal

* * *

April 26th, 2023

* * *

Isaac sat at the dinner table in his apartment with his laptop, textbooks, notebooks, and so many supplies spread about him. Finals were approaching upon him like a death sentence. College was insanity. (Why wasn't it more well known you had to take general classes before classes focusing on your major? Maybe others knew but he sure as hell didn't.)

Taking a sip of his coffee, Isaac shivered when he felt a tingle go down his back. Shaking it off, Isaac went back to his work. If he did not study, he would not do well on this test. Isaac attempted to block out everything to focus on his work.

A few minutes later his phone rang and he ignored it. Everyone important knew he was busy studying for finals. It stopped and then it started again. For ten minutes the cycle continued, ring, pause, ring again, and continue.

Isaac felt agitation and anger build in him. Who the hell kept calling him? He grit his teeth and tried to ignore the ringing, diggin the heel of his shoe into the floor. After another ring, Isaac finally picked up the phone, looked at the ID, and answered.

"Chris, what the hell. I'm trying to study," Isaac snapped at his friend, irritation clear in his tone.

"They're back," Chris said in a rush, voice shaking. "They're back."

Isaac paused. His brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what his friend was talking about. Who the hell was back? They didn't know anyone who had gone away. Was Chris finally cracking under the pressure of finals?

"What the hell are you talking about," asked Isaac confused.

"The dusted," Chris choked out. "They're back. They're all back. They've just started reappearing."

Isaac froze. His mind seemed to shut down before rebooting.

"What," asked Isaac slowly, disbelieving at the news. He asked, "Have you been smoking something? I know finals are a pain, but I never thought you would-"

"No, Isaac. I'm not kidding. I'm not high. Go outside. Look out your window," pleaded Chris, desperate.

Isaac rolled his eyes at his friend while trying to ignore the slight stab of pain at the reminder. The dusted were gone forever. They could not come back. Even if he had accepted it didn't mean it didn't still hurt.

Isaac walked over to his window to look outside and stopped. He nearly dropped his phone. Standing in the middle of the streets and sidewalks were people, so many people, all staring shocked at one another. A light orange glow was in the air surrounding certain people. No one seemed to know what to do.

"Chris," said Isaac slowly, mouth going dry.

"You see what I'm talking about Isaac," asked Chris. Isaac nodded even though Chris could not see him.

"I think so," Isaac said.

He leaned against the wall. What was happening? Isaac leaned against the wall for a few minutes in shock, the sound of Chris's breathing through the phone being the only noise he heard. Was this actually happening? Could those be the dusted? Slowly, a realization hit Isaac.

"My mom," realized Isaac, shock ramming into him. "My mom will be back."

"Yeah. She will be. So will my sister," affirmed Chris who began to sound distracted. "I need to find her. I need to get ahold of her-"

"My mom is back," interrupted Isaac in shock, head spinning.

"Yeah, you just need to find her. I need to find my sister. I'll call you with an update and you do the same."

Chris ended the phone call suddenly, leaving Isaac alone and very confused. Isaac stumbled over to his couch and sank down. What was going on?

Isaac wasn't sure how much time had passed when his phone rang again. All he knew that now his hands were shaking and felt like he was having a panic attack. Isaac picked up the phone and answer:

"Hello?"

"Is this Isaac Aarons?"

"Yes."

"I am Nurse Colbert down at Metro-General Hospital. A patient came in not too long ago from a car wreck. A Viola Aarons. You are listed as a relation are you-"

"I am. I am. I'm her son," rushed out Isaac, his chest tightening. "Is she alright? Is she safe?"

"She's currently being treated, but we need you to come in-"

"I'm on my way. Where in the hospital do I need to be," said Isaac, already moving to get his jacket and wallet. Isaac continued his phone call as he made his way out of his apartment and to the hospital, rushing to see his _mom_ and who was _back_.

Hours later, Isaac found himself being led through the hospital by a nurse in her mid or late twenties. He had been waiting hours for news, going through a range of emotions while trying to process everything.

On the way to the hospital, Isaac had seen so much. Chaos was spread about the streets, roads, everywhere. No one had any idea of what was going on. The hospital was no better with the crowded emergency room and people lying on gurneys throughout the halls. There were so many people who had been injured when they were dusted or when they came back, appearing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Isaac hadn't been able to learn much about his mother upon his arrival. The nurses didn't know much, but they did know his mom was being treated. She had been one of the first to arrive and one of those deemed to need immediate attention. Isaac hadn't sure what to think about that. He was glad she was being treated, but how bad was it for her to be one of the first treated out of everyone in triage? Isaac had then been escorted to a separate waiting room where people who knew someone returned were waiting for news.

Isaac hadn't been sure what to think or feel while he had been waiting. Nothing had seemed real and it still didn't feel quite real. He couldn't believe his mom was back. He couldn't believe everyone was coming back. Aunt Eloise's husband and kids would be back too. Ms Deborah's family would be back. Everyone would be back. He hadn't been able to believe it was all happening.

The nurses words had cycled in the back of his mind while he waited. His mom had been deemed necessary to be treated first out of triage. What did that mean? Was his mom going to be okay? The thought that his mom might not survive had struck Isaac like a truck. His mom hadn't looked good when she had been dusted from what he remembered, but she hadn't looked that bad from what he recalled. What if she had been horribly hurt and he had noticed during the rush of it all? No. That could not happen. He couldn't lose her just when he got her back. It couldn't happen.

Isaac took in a big breath as the nurse escorting him stopped before what appeared to be a private room. The nurse looked tired, shaken, and shocked, but was obviously attempting to try to remain composed. She turned to face him.

"You can go in now. She should be waking up soon. You'll have some alone time for a little bit until another patient joins the room eventually," the nurse explained calmly. "Your mother is in stable condition as of now. A medical personnel should be by soon in a few hours to explain everything in more detail. It would be sooner, but we are running a bit hectically."

"Thank you," said Isaac, his stomach fluttering. He glanced at the nurses' name tag. "Thank you Nurse Dorian."

The nurse nodded, smiling slightly, and walked off. Isaac turned to the door. Hesitating briefly as his mind raced, he moved to open the door. Stepping inside he barely had time to register his surroundings before he shut the door behind him. Isaac turned his gaze to the hospital bed and nearly let out a sob then and there.

His mom laid still and quiet on the bed. She was hooked up to multiple machines including oxygen and a blood bag. Isaac could feel his knees begin to buckle, but the scream of his right knee snapped him to awareness. Isaac stumbled over to the bed in shock and sat down heavily in the chair. He reached out a hand and grasped his mom's.

"Mom?"

Isaac swallowed as tears began falling down his face. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He felt shock prominently, but everything else was a jumble. All he could do was grip onto his mother's hand and cry in relief.

She looked the same as she had when she had disappeared, minus the blood from the crash. She hasn't aged a day. She was just as he remembered. Isaac could even faintly smell the scent of her favorite perfume clinging to her, despite the clinical scent of the hospital.

Isaac choked back a sob as he continued to marvel over the fact his mom was back. She was alive. She was safe. She was here.

"Isaac?"

Isaac snapped his gaze up to his mother's face. Underneath her eyelids, he could see her eyes fluttering. She weakly gripped Isaac's hand that held hers.

"Mom," asked Isaac, hints of excitement and relief in his voice. The sound of his mom's voice sending a thrill up his spine, no matter how weak her voice sounded.

Isaac watched as his mom slowly woke up from the anesthetic. She woke up slowly and groggily, looking around confused. Then, her gaze settled on him and her brow furrowed.

"Baby? Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Isaac sniffled and wiped away some of his tears, saying, "Nothing is wrong Mom. Everything is fine. I'm fine. You're fine. Everything is going to be alright."

"Baby," said Viola, sounding slightly distressed and confused, "you look so much older,"

Viola Aarons reached her hand up to brush her son's face. Isaac squeezed the hand he held in his grasp reassuringly.

"I know Mom," said Isaac, nodding in acknowledgment to her confusion. "But it's alright. It's alright."

"Isaac, what has happened," questioned Viola, looking curiously at her son, eyes still sharp despite the influence of anesthetic and pain killers.

"A lot Mom. A lot," admitted Isaac, "But don't you worry. I'll get you all caught up. First thing we're going to do once they discharge you is going to be a movie night. All the works. Ice cream, pizza, candy, all of it."

"Isaac," said Viola, looking at her son concerned, "Are you okay?"

"I am Mom. I am perfectly alright. For the first time in a long while I'm perfectly alright," said Isaac, tears streaming down his face.

Isaac took in a relieved breath. She was back. He had her again. Everything was going to be alright. There was going to be some challenges, five years had passed, but they could do it. Together. They would start with having their first movie night in five years.

* * *

Evelyn sat hunched over the coffee table in the living room working on her homework. Diana was in the kitchen cooking a late lunch (lucky to have a day off from work) and Xavier was sitting behind her on the sofa watching TV. Today was a day off from school for one of the teacher's training days, but Evelyn still had homework to do. She always had homework, so much homework.

Evelyn bit her lip and tried to drown out the sound of the TV. She understood why Michael always got mad at her when she watched TV when he was doing school work now. It was distracting. Xavier was lucky he didn't have to deal with a lot of homework yet.

Evelyn glanced up from her work and gazed around the living room. She wasn't sure if it was nice or not to be back home. After all the legalities around the dusted were settled, Evelyn learned along with the rest of her family that the house now belonged to her and her brother with Diana holding guardianship until they were both eighteen. Whatever that meant. A few months ago they moved out of Diana's two bedroom apartment back into the house.

Evelyn missed Diana's apartment. It was small and a bit cramped at times, but it had been home for a little over four years. She came to love it and Xavier knew no other home besides it. However, Evelyn was grateful for the space and she knew Diana was glad to have her own room again instead of sleeping on the pull out couch.

The house still looked similar on the outside to how it did when Evelyn lived with her parents and siblings here. The inside, however, was a different story. Diana had added some of her own touches through the decor and Evelyn had helped. The furniture remained the same, but there were a few new coats of paint in a few of the rooms such as the living room becoming a warm beige inside of the pastel blue it once was. The house was definitely big for three people, but they managed to make it feel homey.

Evelyn shook her head. She needed to focus on her schoolwork. Middle school was much harder than elementary school. A chill ran down her spine, but Evelyn brushed it off. Evelyn bit her lip and tried to focus.

A few moments later:

"Evelyn!"

Evelyn snapped her head up, alert. She wondered why Diana was calling her. Did she need help?

"Diana," was her response, questioning.

"That wasn't me," Evelyn heard Diana say from a room in the kitchen. She sounded confused. Or disbelieving.

Then, Evelyn heard something. Creaking or something heavy moving. Realization hitting her, Evelyn snapped her head upwards at the sound of someone upstairs. Evelyn tensed and looked at her brother. He looked vaguely confused.

"Diana what is going on," Evelyn asked, confused and weary that someone may have broken in upstairs.

"Oh God," was Diana's shocked utterance.

"Diana," was Evelyn's call at the same time as two others.

Evelyn froze. She looked towards Xavier and mimed for him to be silent and stay still. Evelyn did not know what was going on and she was frightened it was something bad.

Evelyn got up and walked across the living room to the entrance of the kitchen. Stepping inside cautiously, Evelyn made her way in. Her heart tumbled.

Standing before the kitchen island was Michael, who was supposed to be dead and gone. He looked exactly the same and so real. Evelyn slowly glanced to the dining room and saw Addy. She looked the same as well and she seemed real. Evelyn turned to Diana who was by the sink looking as white as a sheet.

"Diana, what is going on," asked Evelyn uncertain, confusion and shock surging through her.

This could not be going on. The dusted were gone. They were supposed to be dead. Evelyn may be young, but she knew you couldn't come back from the dead. That only happened in comic books. Was she hallucinating? But, Evelyn thought people couldn't hallucinate things together. Did some new wannabe villain create a shared illusion device or something like it out of DC Comics?

"I don't know," Diana said slowly.

"Diana, what are you doing here," asked Michael. He then looked at Evelyn. "Who are you?"

"Yeah," chimed in Addy, walking from the dining room into the kitchen. She looked at the occupants curiously. "You don't live here and you are suppose to be at college. And I don't know you. Are you Mrs. Gallagher's niece? She is supposed to be visiting."

Diana merely looked at her cousins shocked. Evelyn wasn't sure how she looked, but she felt… something. Something like shock or stun.

"Michael? Addy," asked Evelyn, stepping further into the kitchen to better look at her siblings.

"How do you know us," asked Michael.

Evelyn felt like she was hit with a stack of books. They didn't recognize her. They really didn't recognize her. A few moments later, Evelyn watched as her mother walked into the house through the back door.

"Evelyn, where-Michael, Adeline, have you seen your sister," asked Caroline as she came into the house, hands on her hips as she looked exasperated. The siblings shock their heads.

Then, Caroline noticed Evelyn. Caroline paused, doing a double take, and looked at her.

"Who are you?"

Evelyn felt her chest tighten. This could not be happening. Not even her mom recognized her. Please let this be a nightmare.

"Aunt Caroline," asked Diana, who finally seemed to gain some semblance of stability. She stepped forward from the counter and looked at her aunt.

"Diana," asked Caroline, confused at the presence of her niece, "What are you doing here? I thought you would be at college. You didn't say you were coming over to visit."

Diana didn't say anything and instead just raised her hand to her mouth in shock. Evelyn didn't know what to do. What was happening?

"Who are you," Evelyn heard Xavier ask from the living room.

Evelyn whipped around and walked into the living room. Standing not too far away from the staircase was her dad. Evelyn felt herself stumble up against the wall to support herself, but was only vaguely aware. What was going on? How was this possible? It had been five years. Evelyn bit her lip and shoved down the urge to scream and have a fit. This could not be happening.

Caroline followed after her with Michael and Addy. Caroline looked at her husband, confused.

"David, what is going on? Diana is in the kitchen and she should be at college. Then this young girl is here, but we don't know who she is. And who is that boy," asked Caroline.

"I have no idea," said David, shaking his head, "I was checking in on Xavier, but when I go into his room he isn't there. And the house, it is different."

Evelyn watched as everything unfolded, unsure of what was happening. She leaned heavily against the wall and barely jumped at the feeling of Diana laying a hand on her shoulder. Evelyn looked up at Diana who looked just as shocked if not more so. Finally, Evelyn managed to get out,

"Mom? Dad?"

Everyone in the room turned to stare at her. Evelyn suddenly felt like an animal on display at the zoo. The returned looked at each other and then at her. Everything seemed to blur together as Evelyn waited for a response.

"Evie," said David slowly, looking at Evelyn with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Evelyn merely nodded.

Everyone stood in the living room, unsure of what to do. Evelyn did not know what to think. This was all too much. Way too much. Too much.

"What is going on," Caroline finally asked. "What's going on?"

"Aunt Caroline it's been five years," Diana stated bluntly, tact gone out the window.

The returned all turned to look at her. All of them had varying reactions of shock, disbelief, and confusion. Evelyn bit her lip. This was insane. Why wasn't she feeling anything else? Why was no one feeling anything else?

"What," choked out Caroline. David looked like had been hit with a hammer and Michael and Addy just looked confused.

"It's been five years," repeated Diana, voice clinical and rather monotone, "It's why everything is different. It's been five years. Five years ago everyone disappeared. They-"

"Turned to dust," Evelyn finished blankly, head spinning at everything.

Silence followed after Evelyn's words. Everything seemed to be dragging out. Evelyn bit her lip, trying to get her head to snap into focus, but her mind would not spinning. What was going on? Why… why couldn't she focus? What was going on?

"Di, Evie, what's going on," Evelyn heard Xavier ask.

"Xavier," Evelyn heard her mother say, sounding astonished and pained.

Time seemed so slow, Evelyn thought. Evelyn tried blinking and shaking her head lightly to get herself to focus, but she could. Her mind just didn't understand how this was possible. She had thought her parents and siblings dead and after four years she managed to accept it. This past year has been the most normal and stable for her. Was all of that being upended?

"I think," started Diana shakily, her voice cutting through the quiet as she squeezed Evelyn's shoulder, "That we should all sit down. There are many things that need to be discussed and explained."

"That sounds like a good idea," responded Caroline slowly as she glanced at David who nodded.

"I have lunch cooking," said Diana, beginning to formulate a plan, "I can easily double or triple it for all of us. We can sit down and talk this over. Maybe have a stiff drink later."

"Oh hell yes," David muttered, not evening relentting at his wife's look.

"Okay," said Diana, nodding her head slowly, "Let's take this to the kitchen."

Diana squeezed Evelyn's shoulder once more and Evelyn nodded, trying to get her mind to clear. She couldn't believe this was actually happening.

Evelyn wasn't sure what to feel or think as her family made their way to the kitchen and dining room. She felt so numb and everything was spinning into a blur. She had her family, but she didn't know how they were back. She had been hoping for this for years, but she wasn't sure what to do now that it had happened.

Everything was different from five years ago. She was Michael's age now. Xavier had grown up with Diana as the closest thing he knew to a mother. He was nearly Addy's age now. Five years had passed and people had changed. There was five years difference in age, experience, life, everything.

Five years had passed and everything was different. Could there ever be a normal for them again? Could they be a family again like before? Evelyn wasn't sure, but she did want her family to be whole again. Evelyn just wasn't sure what whole would look like.

* * *

"What do you think we should watch next?"

"Hmm?"

"I asked what you thought we should watch next."

"Huh…"

Robert sighed and shook his head. Deborah sat on the sofa next to him, her student's assignments on the armrest next to her as she worked. Today school had a half day so they were planning on spending the afternoon together. However, the relaxing afternoon together had ended up being his wife grading assignments on the sofa beside him as he watched a movie. Well, this was normal when you married a teacher.

"Deborah," said Robert, dragging her name out slightly.

"Hmm," said Deborah in a questioning tone. She looked up from her papers and turned to her husband. Her reading glasses were sliding down her nose slightly and her hair fell on her face. She still looked just as beautiful as when he met her. "What?"

"I asked if you had an idea of what we should watch next," said Robert, giving his wife a pointed look. Deborah winced and looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry dear," said Deborah, giving Robert an apologetic smile, "I've just been so busy trying to prepare the students for the end of the year and all the tests," Robert smiled knowingly.

"I know," said Robert leaning over to kiss his wife on the cheek.

"Now, if we aren't having a nice, relaxing afternoon together, why don't we have a nice night in," Robert suggested, wrapping an arm around his wife. Deborah gave him a bright, indulging smile.

"Oh," she asked, slightly teasingly, "What are you thinking?"

"A nice home cooked meal under candle light with a nice bottle of wine to start off with," said Robert. "Then, maybe one of the old films"

"Hmm," hummed Deborah, mock contemplating, "Sounds wonderful, but do you think two old people like us could handle so much excitement? After all, I'm sixty and you are near sixty-five."

"Then you should hear what I was thinking about my plans for later at night," teased Robert, kissing her on the neck. Deborah laughed as a tingle ran down her spine.

The couple dissolved into playful teasing as they enjoyed their time together. Rarely were they able to enjoy moments like this. Life kept them busy.

After a few minutes, the couple were drawn away from each other and their teasing by the sound of a commotion outside. Deborah and Robert glanced at each other, both confused. Was there a fight? The tenants rarely got into fights with each other.

"What's going on," asked Deborah, curious, as she looked to their door. "Do you have an idea?"

"No idea," replied Robert, shaking his head.

A knock on their door sounded through the apartment. Deborah looked to Robert before standing up to get the door. As Deborah headed to the front door the knocks became more urgent, worrying Deborah. What could've happened?

"I'm coming," Deborah called, as she came to the door, quickly opening it. Standing on the other side was Milo who looked shocked and vaguely panicked.

"Milo, what is it," asked Deborah concern flooding her.

"They're back," Milo spit out immediately, eyes wide, "They're back."

"Who is back," asked Deborah as she gave Milo a confused look, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

Robert called from the living room, "Who's at the door?"

"It's Milo," Deborah called back over her shoulder. She turned back to Milo who still looked shocked. "Now, who is back Milo? What are you talking about?"

"The dusted," said Milo in a rush as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "The dusted. They're back. They just keep appearing everywhere. They're back!"

"What?"

Deborah stared at Milo, heart fluttering in her chest. What had he just said? They were back? That wasn't possible. They were gone. They had been for five years. Deborah shook her head.

"Milo, that isn't possible," Deborah said gently, wondering why he thought that, "They died five years ago."

"Yes, it is," Milo insisted empathetically, "Come and see for yourself!"

"Milo…" Deborah said sadly, trailing off as Milo gestured to the hallway. Deborah bit her lip and decided to humor Milo.

"Deborah, what's going on," asked Robert from the living room.

"Milo says the dusted are back," called Deborah as she stepped into the hallway.

Deborah went into the hallway and immediately stopped, shocked. By the stairwell was Jennifer Wallace. Standing outside apartment E4 was Jacob Kent, talking with his wife Eliza. Phillip Ramone was talking with his remaining roommate who still lived in the building. Karen Light was stepping out of her apartment, looking confused.

Deborah raised her hand to her mouth in shock. Those who had been dusted were right before her eyes. Deborah blinked rapidly, thinking it was an illusion but… They were back. It was them.

Deborah inhaled sharply. Was this actually happening? How was that possible? They had been gone for five years.

"Phillip? Jacob," asked Deborah walking towards the two men. Both turned to her, confused.

"Ms Deborah, what's going on," asked Phillip, looking confused. He walked up to her. "Why are you guys so shocked to see us?"

Deborah didn't know what to say and neither did anyone else. How could they explain what happened? Those in the hallway who survived glanced at each other, unsure what to say.

"We died, didn't we?"

Everyone turned to look to Karen at her sudden announcement. She stood outside her apartment, seemingly in shock. She lifted her head up to look at everyone. She looked stricken, but grimly accepting.

"We died," Karen stated bluntly. "I remember turning to dust."

Everyone looked at each other again, unsure of what to say or do. Karen just took it as confirmation and nodded to herself before slumping against the wall. Minutes passed with no one saying anything. Everyone stood in silence, including Robert who had come into the hallway and Josephine Sanchez who had come up behind her son from their apartment, laying a hand on Milo's shoulder.

"How long has it been," asked Phillip, catching on as he looked around frantically. His roommate avoided his gaze.

"Five years," stated Josephine Sanchez after no one answered.

The dusted all looked as if they had been physically hit, some looking ill. Eliza made a move to comfort her husband and so did Phillip's roommate, but both hesitated. Jennifer and Karen were both relying heavily on the nearest stable surface to remain upwards as no one was near them.

"What happened," choked out Jennifer.

Deborah looked at her tennants helplessly. Where would they begin? How could they explain what had happened? Then, a realization hit her.

"The boys," Deborah breathed out in realization. She turned to look at Robert who looked dumbfounded.

Deborah began moving down the hall and to the staircase before she fully realized what she was doing. Deborah raced down the stairwell, barely registering the people who stood shocked and confused on it. She raced past the fourth floor, where a virtual congregation of people stood confused. Deborah, however, had her sights on the third floor and paid them no mind.

Deborah turned to the third floor entrance and made her way down the hall. There were fewer people here who were confused, but there was some. It didn't matter to her. All she could focus on was getting to the boys, to see if they were there. If the others were, surely they must be too.

Deborah stopped before the door, hesitating, before unlocking the door and stepping in. Deborah slowly made her way through the apartment to the living room, anticipation, and a little bit of dread, flooding her system. When she turned the corner to the living room she nearly collapsed in relief or shock she wasn't sure. Standing in the living room were her boys.

"Max," Deborah choked out, disbelieving and relieved. "Elijah? Ezra?"

The trio turned to face her and Deborah tried not to cry. They looked the same. Exactly the same. No time had seemed to pass for them. They were unaware of what was going on, residing in ignorant bliss. Max was the first to do something, taking a step towards her.

"Deborah? What's going on? Why is everything packed up? Why are there sheets over everything? What's happening," Max asked, confused and looking for answers,

Deborah swallowed hard. She had almost forgotten the sound of his voice. There was so much she had forgotten as she looked them over.

"Ms Deborah why are you crying," asked Ezra, looking at her confused.

"I'm happy Ezra," said Deborah, not having realized she was crying. She reached up a hand and wiped away some of the tears. "I'm so very happy."

"Deborah," said Max, weariness flooding his features as he seemed desperate for answers, "What's happened?"

Deborah remained silent, unsure of what to say. How was she supposed to explain this? How was she supposed to explain everything that had happened? How was she supposed to explain that they had missed out on five years?

"We turned to dust," said Elijah suddenly and in a matter-of-fact voice. He looked at Deborah questioningly. "Didn't we?"

Deborah nodded slowly, but assured, "Yes, but right now that doesn't matter. You're safe, all of you."

Deborah made her way further into the living room. She stood before Max and studied him. He really was the same. Deborah reached out a touched his cheek gently before pulling him into a hug.

"You're back," she choked out in relief. "You're back."

"Deborah," asked Max, pulling away slightly, sounding concerned, "What is going on?"

"A lot," admitted Deborah, looking Max in the eyes. "A lot, but we're going to figure this out. There is a lot you need to be caught up on, but we have time. We have time."

Deborah could feel the relief, the euphoria, the happiness flooding her body. Her boys were back. Deborah pulled Max back into a hug and soon the twins cautiously joined in. Deborah held onto them tightly and thanked God for letting everyone return.

* * *

William strolled down the pathway, taking the time to enjoy the day. The weather was nice, if a little overcast, but good for walking through the park and neighborhood. He could see the bright blue sky peeking out from the clouds and the sun was still shining bright. The grass was nice and bright green and so were tree leaves. The flowers are beginning to bloom and fill the park with color. Nature seemed to finally becoming back to a balance after the Decimation.

William sighed. He should probably start heading home. It was nearing lunch time and he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. He also had to take his meds when he got back. Melody would get on his case along with Harrison and Kiera if he didn't keep taking care of himself. The three made for a terrifying duo. He did not want to be on the receiving end of a lecture again.

William slowly began making his way home, enjoying the fresh air as he went. He enjoyed not being cooped up in the house as he had tended to be in the past. He breathed out slowly. Kiera, along with Melody and Harrison, had gotten more determined over the last year to help him and were rallying more and more of the family to help him, despite the anger he had been holding towards them. The three weren't willing to give up on him and had been fighting tooth and nail. William had learned to appreciate it all and how to deal with his rather misplaced anger. Not that it had been easy.

William shivered as a chill ran down his back. The weather was taking a turn away from pleasantly cool towards chilly.

As William walked he began to notice something odd in the air. He couldn't quite describe it, but it did remind him of a mirage, a faint one at that. Barely noticeable, but William saw it. Then, unfolding in front of him, a shimmering mirage of multiple colors raced through the air. William closed his eyes at the light and felt something warm against his face. Slowly, he began to open his eyes after a few moments.

When William opened his eyes fully he looked around in amazement. A soft golden orange hue hovered in the air, shimmering brightly and translucently. The air seemed to ripple as, slowly, people began to appear, an orange glow around them with dust swirling around them.

William stood frozen, along with others, wondering what was going on. What was this? Who were these people? Where did they come from? Wait. Were these the dusted? Was that even possible?

The people who had come from the orange glow began moving, looking around, and talking. William watched as the dusted came, or who could potentially be members of the dusted, back to life confused. There were so many of them.

William watched, shocked, confused, and astounded. What was happening? Were they coming back? Could this be them? Could this be the dusted? Could they actually be returning?

"Patricia," William breathed out suddenly. Could it be possible.

Could she be back? Could she have returned? Could she be home? Was she back home? Is she okay? Could his family be back?

William stood shocked, mind racing. Excitement and anticipation hummed in his chest. Patricia could be back. Before William could even fully realize it, he was making his way home, walking as fast as he could, navigating his way through the crowds of confused people.

William made it back to his neighborhood and his house in record time. There were so many more of the others here. He saw Leonard Garrick on the sidewalk, still in his running gear, looking around confused. Grace and Vera Crane were standing in the front yard of their parents' house, the young twins looking confused. The more and more people William saw that he recognized gave him hope. Patricia.

William eventually reached his house and hurried to open the front door. Quickly, he headed into the house and bee-line for the kitchen. When he stepped inside the kitchen, William felt as if all the air had been taken from him. Patricia. His beloved Patricia was sitting at the table.

"Patricia," William breathed out, hopeful but wary that he may be imagining this.

Patricia looked up at him, concern and confusion in her eyes, "William, what is going on?"

William staggered forward, reaching for the table to steady himself. It was her. Patricia immediately bolted out of her chair and came to her husband's side. She touched him on the shoulder. She was real.

"William, are you okay," Patricia asked, her eyes containing a mixture of concern and franticness.

"I'm fine," said William, looking her in the eyes to reassure her, remembering himself say similar words to her before she disappeared. "I'm fine."

"William, what is going," asked Patricia, sounding distressed, "The last thing I remember is turning to dust."

"You did. You turned to dust," said William, bluntly before saying, "But you're back you're finally back."

"Back," asked Patricia, voice becoming concerned, "How long have I been gone?"

"A while," said William, not wanting to shock her by saying she had been gone five years and had missed so much, "But you're back. That is all that matters."

William pulled his wife into a hug, relishing the feeling of her. He breathed in the scent of her perfume and lotion. He ran his fingers through her hair. He held her tightly. She was real and she was safe.

William let out a sigh of relief. She was back. That meant the others were too: Elizabeth, Caroline, Tommy, David, Robin, Lark, Michael, Addy, Jess, all of them. They were back.

"I love you," said William. Patricia was finally home and she was going to get her eternity ring.

* * *

The day was nice, Rose thought to herself. Bright and sunny, the sky a bright blue, and beautiful fluffy clouds. A nice breeze wafted through the air, keeping her cool as she worked.

Rose looked around the backyard and smiled. The gardens were coming along quite nicely. A wide array of colors and flowers made the backyard feel vibrant. The Starry Night petunias were her favorite of her newest additions to the gardens.

Rose stood up from her vegetable garden and made sure the vegetables were secure in her basket. She had a good variety that she could use for her cooking today. Rose turned around and made her way to the patio and back door of the house, throwing a look behind her to her dog.

"You coming Kit," Rose asked the dog. The old dog looked up from his spot in the sun warmed grass and then laid his head down. Rose rolled her eyes. The stubborn dog always insisted on overheating himself.

Rose opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside. Moving towards the sink, Rose switched to autopilot. She had done this so many times she could do it without thinking much. Wash the vegetables, dry them off, get out the cutting board, get out bowls to hold the vegetables, put on an apron, pull back hair, fetch a knife, and begin cutting.

Rose started with the bell pepper. She cut off the top and then the bottom. Next was slits in the side and pulling the outer part away from the seeded core. Then, dice the peppers. Rose followed through the motions of preparing the vegetables, relaxing at the familiarity, the process with a clear beginning, middle, and end. This was her stress relief.

Rose relaxed as she prepared her ingredients for cooking, enjoying being able to have the time to cook a whole meal from scratch. With finals approaching she hadn't had the time to do so. She couldn't wait for college this year to be over. Cooking was probably her favorite way to relax now. Even with her gardening she had to deal with the damn bugs and fungus.

Rose looked up from the cutting board when she heard the sound of Kit barking. She rolled her eyes. That dog was paranoid. He barked at everything and anything. As the barking continued Rose gritted her teeth. Whenever Kit barked for too long it made her anxious.

"Kit," she called, knowing he could hear her from the open kitchen window, "Cut it out."

"Rose?"

Rose froze. Someone had just called her name. Who? She lived alone. Her brother preferred his apartment to moving back home after they learned they owned the house. None of her neighbors usually called for her unless Kit was being too loud. Or if the kids next door hit over one of their toys into her yard.

"Rose?"

Again. That didn't sound like her neighbors or their kids. Was she hearing things or hallucinating? Was she losing the last bit of her sanity? Was her mental state getting even worse? Was finals pushing her over the edge? Rose grit her teeth. She really needed to work harder to stop jumping to the worst case scenarios. It could just be a minor auditory hallucination.

"Rose!"

Rose gripped her knife tightly. She heard it again. Then… Rose let the knife drop with a clatter, hands going clammy. That sounded like… Mom. The voice sounded so much like her Mom's. What was happening to her? Maybe she was right to jump to the worst case scenario.

"Rose!"

This time, there were two voices. One sounded like her Dad and the other like her Mom. Rose braced herself against the counter, a wave of anxiety, panic, dread, and adrenaline rushing through her veins. What was happening? She really had to be losing her mind. That could not be her parents she was hearing. Her parents were dead.

"Rose!"

Rose could barely stand. She clutched her hands to her head. She was losing her mind. Rose forced herself to stand up straight. She just needed to look outside. Then, she'd see that she was just hallucinating hearing her parents call for her. A call placed to her therapist and Rose could hopefully get an earlier session and figure out what was going on.

Rose turned to look out the kitchen window. Rose widen her eyes at what she saw. She stared in shock, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Outside, in broad daylight, were her parents. Rose couldn't breath. This had to be a hallucination. It had to be. But… Rose needed to be sure.

Rose slowly made her way to the kitchen door to the backyard. Her whole body was trembling from her legs to her hands and Rose felt like she was having a panic attack. Rose opened the door and stepped out. Her parents were standing together, talking. Kit was by their feet, nestling against them.

What? How could that be happening? A real object couldn't interact with a hallucination, right? Unless it was a visual and tactile hallucination. But, she couldn't be hallucinating Kit, right? And she'd have to be touching them for it to be a tactile hallucination.

"Mom? Dad," Rose tentatively called out, body shaking as she tested to see if this was actually happening. The two turned to her.

"Rose," asked her father, voice shaking. He looked so confused.

Rose felt her chest clench. This couldn't be happening. How was this even possible? The dusted were gone for good. They couldn't come back. Was her mind trying to play a cruel trick? She had her mental health problems, but nothing like this. At least not before.

Rose began moving forwards. She stepped off the patio and slowly began making her way towards her parents. Was this actually happening? She stopped a few feet from her parents. Cautiously, she raised a hand outwards and touched her mother on the arm. Cold, soft, plump skin.

Real. The touch felt real. Could a hallucination feel this real? Rose supposed it was possible. The mind could do the weirdest things, she noted detachedly. Rose was vaguely impressed she was thinking as clearly as she was right now.

"Kiddo," asked her father, touching on her shoulder as tears began welling up in her eyes. She raised a hand to her mouth.

"Rose, sweetie, what's wrong," asked her mother, concerned. She ran her eyes over Rose looking for something wrong and Rose submitted to the scan.

"Sweetie," her mother breathed out wearily after a minute. "You look so much older."

"It's been a while," Rose choked out, not sure if she was really believing what was going on.

"What's going on kiddo," asked her father, giving her a gentle look, but looking nervous.

"A lot," said Rose slowly, "A lot. You've… you've missed a lot."

Lynn and Adam looked at each other. A silent conversation passed between the two. Lynn turned to her daughter.

"Rose, sweetie, I remember dust… and, the place looks different. You and Kit look older. What has happened sweetheart," Lynn asked her daughter as she started to remember.

"You've been gone," said Rose, voice thick with emotion. "You've been gone a very long time."

Adam and Lynn looked at each other. Rose looked at her parents, trying to soak up every detail of them. She had forgotten so much about them. Then, Rose stepped forward and hugged both her parents. Adam and Lynn were surprised (Rose had never been big on physical contact the older she got) but returned the hug.

Rose relished the feeling of her parents, their presence, the scents that clung to them, all of it. They were here. Rose prayed and hoped this was all real and not the sign of some mental break. Rose let herself cry in relief as her parents tried to comfort her. After a few minutes she pulled away.

"Why don't we go inside. We can put on some coffee or tea. There… there is a lot we need to talk about," said Rose, her mind swirling, unsure of what exactly to feel or think. She'd need to call her brother and let him know what happened. Adam and Lynn looked at each other before nodding.

"Okay," said Rose."

Rose and her parents made their way inside. As they went inside, Rose tried to steady herself. Her parents were back. Rose inhaled. Mom and Dad were back.

"I love you, Mom, Dad," said Rose, grateful she was now able to tell them, "I love you so much."

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is the end.

I'd like to thank everyone who has read this story and made it to the end. I would also like to thank all those who followed, favorite'd, and reviewed. Those little things make my day.

I am very happy I finally managed to complete a multi chapter story. I will probably not like this story when I read it months or years from now but right now I'm glad I did it. I'm glad I did a story idea I wanted to do.

I have one final note. I wrote this chapter before Far From Home. I only just realized the similarity between Evelyn's idea about what was going on and the villain from the new Spider-Man movie. That was not intended or planned!

Also, I realize Evelyn's conclusion is a bit more negative than the other's, but I felt it was realistic. I couldn't let this be an entirely happy ending story. Not everything can go back to how it was and Evelyn suspects that. A lot of things have changed.

Furthermore, I know the directors and producers said that no one was harmed coming back from The Snap, but I wrote this before that was revealed and I read about it. I take a while to revise and edit. Besides, it's a significant part of this chapter.

Well, that's all. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome. I'd like some final feedback.

Check out some of my other stuff if you have the time and a new one-shot for the MCU should be up by mid September.

Bye!

-Miss Corrine

* * *

_Chapter published August 1st, 2019._

_Story completed August 1st, 2019._


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